


A Traveller in the Shire

by Cassunjey



Series: A Traveller in Middle-earth [5]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Betrayal, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Minor Character Death, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Secrets, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassunjey/pseuds/Cassunjey
Summary: The battle for Erebor has been won and the dust has settled. Hasn't it?Fili and Kili attempt to adjust to their new lives apart.Sequel to 'A Traveller in Middle-earth'Lots of angst, as much fluff as I can manage, and the occasional bit of smut.
Relationships: Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Kíli (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Traveller in Middle-earth [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928956
Comments: 48
Kudos: 28





	1. Where is my son?

The temperature was dropping.

Uzresh stirred up the dying embers of the small cookfire and glanced up at the sky, the soft glow of the setting sun just visible through the thick tree branches above. It was past time they should have been awake.

He looked around the little clearing, listening to the soft snores emanating from the mounds of blankets as he scratched at his chin and debated allowing them to sleep just a little while longer.

From the youngest to the oldest they had done well. Much better than Uzresh had ever expected when he and his hunters first stumbled upon the ragtag band of survivors huddled together high on the ridge above the burning settlement. Their hopeful, sad eyes looking to him for leadership. His usually sound judgement and the survival instinct he prided himself on overridden by the unexpected joy of finding his eldest, Urzig, alive and unharmed amongst them.

“I will lead you,” he had told them as his second-in-command, Ozru, sighed heavily at his back. “But if you fall behind we will not wait for you.”

He had meant it too.

Despite the hard pace not one of them had either fallen behind or dared raise so much as a whisper of a complaint. Quietly rubbing their feet and easing aching muscles when he finally allowed them to stop, some collapsing where they stood, too tired to even lay out a bedroll on the cold ground. Rising when he barked out the order. Long marches, little sleep and no fires slowly draining their strength as the nights passed and already meagre supplies dwindled away to nothing.

In an eerie silence they had hurried along in the dark, hour after hour and mile after mile, with no songs to lift their spirits. Only their panting breaths and the occasional clumsy snap of a twig or scuff of a heavy boot against rock to mark their passing. Fearful of attracting unwanted attention as they skirted the forest.

They all understood that these were perilous lands.

I’ll give them another few moments, Uzresh decided. It might be a while before they slept again peacefully with full bellies. His eyes fell on the packs, reassuringly heavy looking once more. At least now they would have fresh meat for a few days. Cold meat was infinitely better than none.

A small sound in the undergrowth caused him to start. Uzresh smiled to himself, shaking his head as he took his hand away from the knife in his belt, relieved no-one was awake to witness his shattered nerves. Beside him Urzig continued to whimper in his sleep. Lanky limbs tangled up in his blanket as he tossed and turned fitfully, the bad dreams plaguing him even in his exhaustion.

Uzresh reached out and placed a hand gently upon his son’s forehead, whispered what he hoped were soothing words until the boy settled again. Time would heal. He was certain of it. He had to be.

The flickering, comforting firelight drew his gaze again. It had been dangerous to light one, that was true, and beyond dangerous to tarry this long. They were moving too fast to make more than the most rudimental efforts to cover their trail. Any real attempt at stealth sacrificed for speed.

It had been a gamble to stop.

Uzresh and Ozru had argued fiercely back and forth as they ran at the head of the pack, their voices hushed and their prizes heavy and tempting across their shoulders. Ozru unable to hide his fury when Uzresh at last tired of listening.

With a final snarl that commanded Ozru be silent or face the consequences Uzresh had stopped and led them as far into the forest as he dared. Pointedly ignoring Ozru as the old warrior stalked and circled the clearing, muttering curses and glaring at the trees like they offended him.

Uzresh understood that nerves were strained. He felt that he could forgive a little insubordination under the circumstances.

The smell of the hastily prepared meat thrown on the fire had cheered Ozru somewhat and he had abandoned his sulking and joined them, nudging Uzresh and grumbling something that might have been an apology.

They had fallen upon the food as if truly starving, tearing meat from bones before it was ready, burning lips and tongues and laughing at each others eagerness and their good fortune. And the world had seemed that little bit more forgiving for a few moments. That little bit more hopeful.

Uzresh forced his eyes away from the dancing flames and stared into the deep shadows between the tall trees. Tried to reassure himself that he had been right to pull rank. That they had to rest and that the healing power of a warm fire and a bellyful of something hot and wholesome was worth the risk. That surely they had enough of a headstart and perhaps, if they were very lucky, were even now out of the territory of their pursuers.

He wasn’t feeling particularly confident. The itch between his shoulder blades had become relentless.

As a precaution he had set a double watch and could only sit and hope that he hadn’t made a decision that would get them killed, not when they’d managed without a single loss this far.

Uzresh wasn’t entirely sure where exactly they were though, which was a problem. Pulling the map from his pocket he smoothed it out and spread it carefully on the damp forest floor, rummaging about for a spare scrap of parchment as he pulled a piece of charcoal from the fire. Ideally he would like to be well clear of the forest before they were forced again to stop and hunt. He noted down some figures and tried to calculate rations as he considered their route.

It wasn’t the most accurate of maps but it looked like they would be funnelled into a gully not far ahead. Perfect ambush territory.

Uzresh tapped his claws against his knee as he thought. The alternative, moving further into the forest, didn’t appeal to him either.

I’ll decide when I see it, he nodded to himself. Hide the others and take Ozru with me to scout. We can’t go back.

Not for the first time he wondered if he had made a fundamental mistake, if he should have chosen to take them north instead of south. It had seemed so obvious to him at the time.

An owl hooted nearby and he looked around, a little confused. Beyond the fog of weariness something stirred in the back of his mind.

On the other side of the clearing, near the trees, Ozru sat up. He stared at Uzresh, eyes impossibly wide.

A second owl hooted, closer and strangely near the ground, and Uzresh remembered.

“Run!” he roared as he swept up his scimitar and leapt to his feet, knowing even as he did it was likely useless. His perimeter guards, the only other trained fighters beside him and Ozru, likely already lay dead amidst the trees.

He had killed them all.

“Run!” He kicked Urzig hard as the boy stirred too slowly, blinking up at him in confusion. “Dwarves!”

Firelight sparked off the edge of a fast moving blade as it spun, the impact knocking him back a step.

* * *

“What do you mean, he's gone?”

The unfortunate guard stepped back hastily. Thorin motioned quickly for the dwarf to leave as Dis spun to face him, her face a mix of fury and fear.

“Thorin. Where is my son?”

* * *

Uzresh stared at the scimitar, unable to will his fingers to move. His thoughts felt strangely dull.

He couldn’t remember falling to his knees but he must have done.

Urzig lay only a few steps from his bedroll, his eyes already glazed. A mannish arrow in his throat. It had taken longer that Uzresh would have wanted, had he a choice in the matter. His boy gasping for air, clawing at his throat and choking on his own blood. Scrawny, almost grown legs kicking hard. Uzresh had knelt, powerless to do anything other than watch. Not taking his eyes from his boy as the screams and curses of his people rose around him. Nor when they faded into quiet.

The soft, purposeful footsteps come closer.

It had been a massacre.

He should have taken Urzig and gone. They should have ran and not stopped running until they were pounding on the Black Gate. He had been a fool to think there was any safety in numbers. He had been a fool to think he could save them all.

The footsteps had stopped.

With an effort Uzresh tore his gaze from Urzig and looked into the cold, green eyes of the Durin.

The curses wouldn’t form as he wished. Uzresh tried anyway. His voice a broken gurgle, his tongue thick and unwieldy in his mouth as it refused to obey him. He cursed the Durin bitterly. For the death of his sons. His little daughter and his wife. The death of all his folk. Cursed him for the cruelty of blocked cave mouths, his kin trapped inside to burn, those who tried to escape the flames cut down savagely.

He cursed himself for stopping. For creeping toward the stone walled pen where the oblivious men slept, his soft footsteps masked by the quiet, worried bleating of their charges.

He cursed the men for their complacency. Their arrogance in thinking that could sleep peacefully as danger stalked them.

He cursed himself for the same.

The Durin kicked the scimitar away.

Uzresh watched it go with a sense of loss. His fingers twitched. Something within him broke. Finding a strength he thought gone Uzresh tore the knife from his throat and threw himself across the fire.

* * *

They looked down at the huge orc sprawled at their feet. Fili placed a boot under it’s shoulder and rolled it over. The grey eyes stared at the sky, fixed and unseeing.

Dwalin snorted. “Took that one a while to realise it was dead.”

Fili nodded in agreement. It had been talkative too. He had struggled to make out any of the words but he had felt the hatred radiating off the creature before it attempted to lunge at him with his own throwing knife. He spun the knife through his fingers and tucked it away.

Kneeling by the ruins of the fire he pulled out the singed pieces of parchment.

“What is it?” Dwalin knelt beside him.

“A poor attempt at a map.” Fili turned the parchment over in his hands. “Some sort of scratchings, a list perhaps, but underneath I think there may be some older writing.” He folded them carefully and tucked them in a pocket. Dwalin looked at him curiously.

“It’s not often you see them carrying messages, Dwalin. I’ll let Ori and Balin take a look. This isn’t mutton, is it?”

They both considered the scattered, half burnt bones. Fili pulled one gently from the ashes. He looked at the orc’s packs and sighed heavily.

“The boys didn’t get away after all then,” Dwalin said sadly.

“It was but a fool’s hope.” Fili agreed. He pushed himself to his feet, suddenly tired. It had been a hard and long chase. And now it was over.

He huffed out a breath, feeling a little deflated as he looked around the clearing. Counted heads. “Where’s Bain?”

“Last time I saw him he was headed for the bushes.” Dwalin stood. “You find him and I’ll go have a look in those packs.”

* * *

Bain hadn’t gone far.

Fili stood and waited whilst the boy retched, half turned away and studying the trees and undergrowth to give Bain some privacy. They weren’t far enough under the eaves for the spiders to be a serious threat but still, it would be foolish to underestimate the creatures of Mirkwood. Especially with the winter darkness rapidly falling.

The prince should never have been allowed to wander off into the woods alone. Fili reminded himself to have a serious word with Garett and the poor excuses for trained guards that he had insisted on bringing along.

Clumsy, useless fools the pair of them. And Garett wasn’t much better for all his repeated claims about his hunting abilities. Fili was not impressed by either the man’s tracking or knife skills. The noisy fumbling with the orc guard had almost alerted the entire pack. Fili had been forced to step in and finish the orc himself, motioning sharply for silence as the big one by the fire had peered around the trees, sniffing the air cautiously.

He was proud of Bain though.

He handed the boy a waterskin once it seemed like he was finished.

“Just little sips,” he said, “see if it stays down.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bain wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes red and watery. Bright spots of embarrassed colour high on his pale cheeks.

“There’s nothing to apologise for.” Fili smiled and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I did exactly the same after my first kill.”

Bain’s eyes were wide, he shook his head in disbelief.

“I did.” Fili began to walk back toward the clearing, the boy quickly slinging his bow about his shoulders and falling into step beside him. “Thorin took us with-”

He cursed himself for the slip of the tongue. It's been a year, he thought, annoyed. A whole year and yet you still forget.

He tried again.

“I mean, I was with Thorin in the Blue Mountains. Orcs had been attacking traders on the road to our settlement. We tracked them and set up an ambush. I’d never taken the life of anything bigger or more dangerous than a rabbit before.”

He smiled as he recalled holding Kili’s hair back, both of them green and swaying by the time they’d finished throwing up everything they'd eaten that day. Swearing each other to secrecy. Thorin knew, of course, but hadn’t said a word. Just handed them a waterskin as they returned to the others, catching a hold of Fili’s arm and whispering in his ear that they had made him proud.

“It was a good, clean shot, Bain. On a moving target too. You did well. You're a fine archer.”

The boy looked a little green again as he stared at the orc crumpled by the fire in the centre of the clearing, the arrow in it’s throat.

I’ll give him a few more moments to settle himself before I send him to fetch it, Fili thought. Then that will be enough for him for one day.

He steered Bain away to the far side of the clearing, far away from where Dwalin and Nori stood by the open packs.


	2. You must let me go

Thorin glanced up toward the vent in the corner of the cramped kitchen. Fili’s laughter echoing through it from the passageway outside as Gimli called excitedly to him, before they heard the crash of two heavy bodies meeting at speed.

He exchanged a glance with Dis.

She raised her chin. “My guards are permitted to take breaks occasionally.”

Molir’s voice boomed in through the vent and she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s take our seats.” Thorin lifted his mug, leading the way through his study and out to the large carved table in the antechamber. “Since we know now he’s on his way.”

They were just settled when the door opened and Fili entered, still laughing from his conversation in the passageway. Thorin tried not to sigh as the happy smile faded, Fili's face becoming carefully blank as his eyes took in the group around the table, closing the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary. Beside him Thorin heard Dis take in a breath.

“Take a seat, Fili.” Thorin indicated the empty chair opposite him as Dis scraped hers back. Unable to restrain herself as promised she crossed the room almost at a run and wrapped her arms tightly around his nephew.

Thorin exchanged a glance with Balin across the table as Dain snickered. They watched the much threatened ear-boxing definitely not take place as Dis touched her forehead to Fili’s and whispered to him. Fili smiling back at her genuinely as he stroked her face.

His nephew had been back in Erebor for some hours.

But it didn’t matter, Thorin tamped down the little flare of anger. What mattered was that Fili had come almost straight away when he was ordered, albeit with his hair still damp and curling tightly over the shoulders of his tunic. A bath and Durin only knows what else obviously having taken precedent to his king’s summons.

So he was mostly obedient. Or paying lip service to being mostly obedient at least.

The road to forgiveness is long and winding, he reminded himself as Dis linked an arm through Fili’s and towed him to the table. A year was not such a very long time after all and little punishments were to be expected, although Thorin found that his tolerance for them was beginning to wear thin.

“We were expecting you some days ago, my sister-son,” Thorin began as Fili settled himself at the table, nodding to Balin and Dain. Dis lifted her mug and moved around the table to take the seat beside Fili.

His tone had deliberately not been confrontational but Fili sat up straighter as if it were, immediately defensive.

“I sent a message.”

“And we received it.” Dis shot Thorin a glare before smiling up at Fili. “I hope the people of Dale were suitably grateful for your help.”

Thorin clenched his teeth a little as he watched Fili take a mouthful of tea from Dis’s mug, smiling winningly at her before turning his attention back to Thorin. The smile disappearing from his face so completely and quickly it was as if Thorin had imagined it.

Days he had listened to Dis tell him in great detail how she intended to tear strips off Fili for dismissing his guards and heading off to chase down an orc pack.

He watched her as she stroked Fili's hand, smiling warmly up at him. Her eyes shining with happiness at having her son home safe and whole. Thorin was also pleased to see Fili well and unharmed. He’d done his own fair share of pacing his chambers whilst they waited anxiously for news, but an immediate explanation and a very sincere apology was required.

“Do you want a full report, Uncle?”

“Have you somewhere else you need to be?” Thorin ignored the sharp look from Dis.

A flicker of emotion passed over Fili's face before he smoothed it again. He tilted his chin.

“Yes,” said Thorin when it became apparent that Fili intended to say nothing further. “Yes. I want the full report. I would like you to explain exactly how it was that you left here with a full patrol for a routine scouting expedition and they returned late, and without you. I would like you to explain why you commanded they tarry half a day in Dale before returning to the mountain so that you were long gone before your ‘message', such as it was, was relayed to us.”

“We discovered a nest-”

“So I have heard, a nest that lay outside your agreed search boundary by some two days march.” Thorin motioned for Fili to continue.

“Granted the nest may have lay a little outside the boundary but we picked up the trail near the lakeshore. Which, as I am sure you are aware, is deep inside our boundaries, Uncle. We followed the tracks back to the nest and cleared it.”

“You should have reported back.”

“Thorin.” Fili looked annoyed. “I would have returned had the numbers been too great. They were dug into the mountainside. We watched for a full day and a night to be sure of their numbers, trapped them and disposed of them. I am aware of protocol.”

Thorin considered that. He nodded for Fili to continue.

“As we returned to Erebor a rider came from Dale at speed and hailed us. An urgent message from King Bard. I agreed to meet with him of course, for it was obviously very important, and when I entered the city it was in an uproar. An orc raid south of the Forest River mouth. Two boys missing and their companion lying half dead from exhaustion, completely spent from running back to the city to raise the alarm. I spoke with the lad and he told me that he had been tracking a wandering sheep and witnessed the attack from a distance. He didn’t know if his friends were alive or dead. Someone needed to go and investigate.”

“And you decided that this someone should be you?”

Fili nodded. “The lad said they came from the north. I suspected that they could be survivors from the nest. I had thought that we had accounted for all of them but some of the beasts must have been ranging.” Thorin read the guilt in Fili’s eyes. “It was too much of a coincidence to be otherwise.”

“It could have been a coincidence,” said Dain, almost gently. “Erebor cannot be held responsible for the movements of every orc in the vicinity.”

“Even so. Bard intended to send his men after them and I volunteered to accompany them.” Fili looked at Dis. “I am truly sorry for worrying you, Amad. It was my fight.”

He turned back to Thorin. “We needed to ride to have a chance of getting ahead of them, that is why I sent the guards without me. I told them to wait until full light because I did not want to risk them being shot at by their own kin on a dark winter morn. Only Nori, Dwalin and myself have any experience on horseback so that is why I only took them with me. We caught up with the pack close to the southern edge of Mirkwood, but sadly too late to save the boys. We buried their remains in the mannish fashion and I returned and apologised to their families.”

“You did what?”

“They were grateful, nonetheless. As was Bard. Bain made his first kill and the others equipped themselves...reasonably well. It was a valuable training exercise for them. Bard knows that they can no longer rely on a lake to keep them safe from orcs and foul creatures.”

Thorin massaged his temples, feeling the beginnings of one of his headaches. “Bain? Bard’s heir? You took a child with you?”

“I took the Prince of Dale with me. He’s sixteen, and a man grown. He wished to go and Bard gave his blessing. Sigrid’s intended, Garett, and two guards went with him.”

“He’s a child. He would follow you anywhere and Bard’s not much better.”

Thorin tried to remember which one Garett was. A lot of the Lake-men, Dale men now he reminded himself, looked alike to him. He shook his head, it didn’t matter.

“Bain did well, Uncle. I think I will take him with me next time on patrol. He's keen to learn and listens well and an archer is always useful. Bard is quite taken with the idea-"

Thorin snorted.

“-It'll give Bain a bit more confidence. Bard wants me to give Garett another chance but I'm not convinced. He seems to think the lad was trying to impress me but I'm not so sure.” Fili drummed his fingers lightly on the table and looked thoughtful. “He made a lot of mistakes and he can be quite argumentative, but I suppose he does need to learn and the men should really be running their own patrols by now. I'm sure we would all rather they didn't learn by losing a lot of folk, it’s not as if they have a surplus and what’s left of their menfolk are either a little too old or too young for my liking. But needs must and we will just have to work with what we have. They really aren't fighters and they will need to be. Perhaps we should-"

Thorin had heard enough. “You talk as if we are overrun with orcs, Fili. We are not. This was a few sheep and yes, some shepherds. A tragedy of course but also only a minor nuisance that the men should have dealt with themselves. You are not their prince, they had no business asking you to lead them.”

“Bard is our ally.” Fili squared his shoulders. “If I had not gone the men likely would not have caught them. They would have been free to prey-”

“You said they were almost south of Mirkwood by the time you caught them. They were obviously intending to leave our lands far behind. Your diligence is starting to look a little like a personal crusade.”

Fili opened his mouth to reply. Shut it again.

“There are plenty of orc nests in the Iron Hills,” said Dain. “We let them be unless they cause a bother. You will never be rid of them completely, lad. I understand that-”

“So you would have let them go?” Fili sounded incredulous, he looked around the table. “We should let them go?”

When they didn’t respond he stood and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, spread it on the table before them with a look of triumph. “They carried this.”

They all looked at the torn scrap of grubby parchment. Balin pulled it a little closer and peered at it.

“I’ve already taken it to Ori.” Fili raised his chin. “It’s badly damaged but he could definitely make out ‘Durin’. It’s some sort of order.”

Thorin reached across the table and took the parchment from Balin. He studied the marks. If Ori had been able to pick out a word then it was likely there. But it looked old. He placed it flat on the table.

“Leave me.” He motioned for Fili to sit. “Not you.”

Once the door had clicked quietly closed Thorin leaned back in his chair and studied his nephew.

This has gone on long enough, he thought. We do him no favours by indulging him further, it only allows him to grow ever wilder. More wilful and arrogant. Where did my boy go? The one who would never have dreamed of disobeying me.

Thorin sighed heavily, for he knew the answer of course. None better than he knew that the boy had gone down into a cell, far below their feet. Down into the very depths of Erebor, with chains on his wrists and terrible words in his ears. And he had never come back out.

“This must stop.” He held up a hand and Fili’s mouth clicked closed. “Dain is correct, we will never scour the lands of Middle-earth free of orcs and it a waste of time and resource to try. They will just spring up again as if from the ground. This vendetta of yours must stop.”

“But the message-”

“Is old. I suspect it could even predate our quest. It is likely an order from Azog, forgotten in the pocket of one of his foot soldiers. Even if it were not, what does it matter? We have our mountain fortress, we are mightier than any other race in this world, completely without equal. And we will always have our enemies, those who want to take from us what is ours. You will never be completely rid of them, not if you were to live a thousand lifetimes. But you know all this, you have always known of the target on your back, Fili.”

“It is not my back I am concerned about.”

And there is the crux of it, Thorin thought as he looked into Fili’s eyes. He waited. At last Fili took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to the table.

“The stars were still in the sky,” he said quietly, “when we set out from Dale. We rode carefully for it was full dark but the horses were sure-footed and by the time the first glimmers of light began to appear on the horizon I stood by the sheepfold on the banks of the Forest River. Nori and I had found the orc’s trail and we were watering the horses and giving the men a few moments to gather themselves before we set off in pursuit. The world was quiet and still and I looked into the dawning sky and it had been a year. An entire year since I watched the same sun rise as I lay wrapped in my brother’s arms. Where is he, Uncle?”

“You know where he is. He is in the Shire, with Bilbo.” Thorin felt very certain of it. It could not be otherwise.

“If that is so then why have I heard nothing?” Fili’s eyes were on his again, pleading. “The world is not so very big that all can be well yet we have heard nothing. You must let me go.”

“I sent three messages to your Amad after the battle, she only received one. You shouldn’t let it worry you so. Letters and messages go astray from time to time. It doesn’t mean-”

“You are not listening to me.” A hand banged the table. “You must let me go. I must know if he is-" Fili swallowed hard. “I cannot go on, not knowing.”

Thorin watched as Fili dropped his eyes to the table again, pulling the scrap of parchment back to him and staring hard at it.

“You would know,” Thorin said gently. “You would know if-”

“Would I?” Fili made a noise that could have been an attempt at a laugh. Thorin felt his heart twist a little.

“I am not so sure, Uncle. I am not sure that I would know if he had left me. I have heard the talk, although everyone tries their best to hide it from me. They say that he will no longer be permitted to enter the Halls. I fear that I will wait forever on him, until the world is remade and beyond, and I will never see him again. Not in this life, nor in the next.”

Thorin watched busy hands smooth the parchment out. Over and over. One of the edges starting to come apart.

“It is tearing me to pieces, Uncle. Please.”

“I promise you, you would know if-”

“Then why? If that is true as you say then why hasn’t he written? I need to see him.” Fili’s eyes were red-rimmed when he lifted them again. He scrubbed a hand quickly over his face before returning it to the parchment, fiddling with the torn edge. His voice cracking and desperate. “Let me go. I’ll be quick. I won’t even go near him, I won’t speak to him. He won’t even know I’m there, I’ll just take a quick look and then I’ll come straight back. Please.”

“Fili-”

“Please, Uncle Thorin, please. I just need to see that he is well and I will never ask again. I will do anything you ask of me.”

Thorin could see him searching for what would best please his uncle.

A determined look came over Fili’s face. “I’ll marry. Anyone you want, I don’t care. I won’t put up any objections.”

Thorin felt his lips quirk but managed to still his face in time. He had expected an offer of gold. But this was a clever trade, a generous offer. Fili had made his feelings very clear on the matter of marriage. He reached out a hand and touched Fili’s fingers, trying to ignore the flinch. He shook his head and smiled kindly.

“I’m not going to force you to-”

“You don’t understand, Uncle. I feel it every day. Every morning I wake and for a moment I forget and I wonder where he is. Something makes me smile or I hear something that will make him smile and I turn to tell him and he isn’t there beside me. I can’t bear this. I have tried. I hear his voice and I look for him and…it’s an ache.” Fili pulled his hand away and touched his own chest. “Here. It hurts here and it doesn’t ever fade.”

“Time will-”

“No. Don’t tell me time will heal me, I don’t want to hear it.”

The fury that seemed to be forever simmering just below the surface was back. Thorin could see the water gathering in Fili’s eyes as he swiped angrily at his face again.

“It is a wound,” said Thorin in what he hoped was a soothing tone, “a grievous wound and it will, I promise you, heal in time. But it will not heal if you don’t leave it alone. You need to stop-”

“Let me go.”

It was a demand this time.

Thorin looked deep into Fili’s eyes and saw what Dis was so frightened of. The reason why his little sister, who was scared of nothing, was heart scared, pacing the ramparts and driving herself mad with worry every time Fili left the mountain. Certain that this would be the time her son, his nephew, would not return.

She had grown paler as the days had passed with no word of the patrol returning. Alternating between fits of weeping and rage. Begging and demanding that another patrol be sent right away. Thorin had been organising a search when the patrol guard had arrived from Dale, stammering out an apology that Fili had dismissed them. It had hurt his heart to watch Dis crumple, catching her in his arms as she fell to the floor with tears running down her face when she heard that Fili had taken a fast horse and left Dale in the dark hours before dawn.

Dis had been inconsolable, even as Thorin rubbed her back and tried to reassure her that Fili wouldn’t disobey him, that Dwalin and Nori wouldn’t dream of disobeying him. He’d stubbornly ignored the little thread of doubt telling him that all three had ignored or disobeyed a direct order in the past. That had been then. Circumstances had been different. He was no longer ill.

It was plain to see now. Thorin realised with a jolt. He chided himself for his arrogance in not seeing it before. For it was written in the determined green eyes looking back at him steadily.

You are going to go. He suddenly felt very certain about it. The next opportunity you get you will take it and you will be gone from us. I need to let the gate guards know.

“You are confined to the mountain.”

“What?” Fili looked shocked. “No. Why? I didn’t-”

“I cannot trust you, it is a simple as that.” Thorin forced himself to sound stern when all his heart wanted was to rush around the table and gather his nephew to him. Press their foreheads tightly together and explain softly that not a single day passed but he too worried about and missed his wayward youngest nephew. Stroke Fili’s hair and look deep into his eyes and tell him that he too wished, more than anything, that things could have been different. Whisper that he understood the pain was almost too much to bear, because he felt it too.

But Fili wouldn’t want to hear it. Not from him. Thorin knew that he would be pushed away, that was an absolute certainty. He couldn’t remember the last time Fili had accepted his embrace. At best his nephew would tolerate his touch, standing stiff and reluctant, avoiding all eye contact. Thorin forced himself to continue.

“The last three times you have been out of the Mountain you have been later and later back. However this time is the worst by far. We did not know where you were or if you were safe. Your Amad was worried. I was worried. It was yet another blatant disregard of my orders and it is completely unacceptable, not to mention dangerous.”

Thorin watched Fili’s face carefully. “I know you are hurting, I understand. But you are my heir and I need to be able to trust you. You will need to get out of the mountain from time to time, of course, but there will be no more patrols. You can go out for a walk to Dale and back with Dwalin.”

“I am to be under guard? A prisoner again?”

“No, not a prisoner. Of course not. You are my heir. The most precious-”

“Then perhaps you will let me go to Dale on market day, like a good little dwarfling?”

“Perhaps.” Thorin gave up, it wasn’t worth the argument. They would speak more when Fili’s blood had cooled. He sat back in his chair and ignored the snarl. “If you behave yourself I will consider it. So there can be no misunderstanding you are also relieved of your trade duties, effective immediately. I will meet with Thranduil and Bard in Mirkwood next month in your stead.”

Fury flashed again across Fili’s face, quickly masked. He stood, the chair scraping back against the stone. The parchment folded and put away. “As my king commands.”

“He does. You may leave me.”


	3. The dark haired archer

“His name's Odr.” Hafdis stood on tiptoe beside Fili and leaned over the solid wooden fence. “I've had him since he was only a little piglet. He's quite friendly.”

Fili pulled his fingers back behind the fence as the huge warpig took a swipe at him with it's tusks. He laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “He's faster than he looks.”

“He's old and spoilt,” said Hafur from his other side. “He'll make some great bacon though.” The fence bowed and creaked as he leant forward over the top board to slap the pig hard on the rump. It squealed angrily and ran to the opposite side of the small pen. “Won't you, Odr? And lots of nice, fat sausages.”

Fili hid a smile behind his hand as Hafdis glared first at her brother and then him. She turned away from them and reached out a hand to the pig, making soothing noises as it snorted and stamped it’s way toward her.

“I'll make you into sausages first, brother. And he's not old. He's in his prime. His sire lived until he was well over twenty years old and Odr is only eighteen.” She scratched the pig between it's ears and cooed at it. “You're only a baby, isn't that right? Isn't that right, Odr? My good boy.”

Hafur raised his eyebrows at Fili.

“I saw that,” said Hafdis. “Do you want me to saddle him for you, Fili? We can just go around the stable yard for today. I’ve had him out this morning so he’s had a good run already.” She cooed at the beast again as it grunted. “Yes, that's right. We've got all your fidgets out already, haven't we? You're much more fun to ride than boring ponies.”

Fili crouched and looked through the fence into the pig's eyes. It glared back at him.

“You can almost see it thinking, can’t you?” Hafur nudged Fili as he knelt to join him. “There’s definitely some sort of intelligence lurking about in there.”

Fili thought he agreed.

“I expect he’s wondering what a Durin prince tastes like. Especially one that’s been cooped up in a mountain, getting all soft and fat.” He poked Fili in the side, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Odr’s teeth aren’t quite what they used to be so you’ll be just perfect. He’ll barely need to chew.”

Fili slapped Hafur’s finger away as he moved to poke him again. “Stop that.”

“Make me.”

“Don't pay Hafur any mind.” Hafdis tutted from above their heads.

Fili slapped Hafur's finger away again and grabbed at the fence for balance as Hafur pushed him hard in retaliation. Fili pushed him back and they grinned at each other for a moment before Hafur launched himself at Fili with a roar, almost managing to knock him backward. They grappled at each other’s shoulders.

“Stop it, the pair of you.”

His boot skidded on the flagstones and struck against the fence post. Hoping the post held and that they weren’t about to have an angry pig join their wrestle Fili used the post to push himself up and forward, bearing his weight down on Hafur. They fell back together into the non too sweet smelling straw.

Hafur yelled in outrage and grabbed Fili’s throat with his left hand as he swung with his right.

“Stop it.” Hadfis sounded annoyed.

Blocking the swing with his elbow Fili felt the light tap of a boot against his thigh as she tried to get his attention. He muttered an apology through clenched teeth and shifted his knee to pin Hafur’s right arm, which freed up both his hands to deal with the fingers wrapped around his throat. He wrestled that arm to the ground and pinned it too, mostly avoiding the headbutt. Hafur’s knee caught him hard in the ribs and he swore, repositioning himself.

“Anyway, Odr only bites if he doesn't like someone-"

Hafur bucked under him, almost managing to free an arm, and tried another headbutt. Fili shifted a forearm across his throat to hold him down and Hafur snapped his teeth in response.

“-but he likes you, I can tell.” Hafdis patted Fili on the head gently. “Come on, get off my brother and I'll show you.”

Fili leant harder on Hafur. “Do you yield?”

Hafur stopped struggling and nodded, smiling innocently up at him. Fili searched his eyes, not entirely sure he believed him. The Iron Hills dwarves seemed to have different rules when it came to submitting a bout. He'd been caught out by Hafur before. More than once.

“He yields,” Hafdis said. “Behave yourself, brother.”

Fili slowly released Hafur and cautiously raised himself to standing, pointing a warning finger as he did.

“You don't need all those fingers do you, Fili?” Hafur rolled to his feet and made an exasperated noise. “Look at what you’ve done to me, I’ll have to go and change before dinner now. Uncle Dain will box my ears if I walk in with straw in my hair and whatever this is on my trousers. And what’s that smell?” He twisted to try and look at his back. “Is that pig muck? Did you push me in pig muck? You-”

“Quiet.” Hafdis wrapped her fingers around Fili’s wrist and pulled him close, stretching their arms out toward the pig. “Odr likes a little scratch behind the ears. Go on.”

The pig snorted loudly and side stepped at his touch. Fili whipped his hand back as Hafur laughed behind them.

“A little harder.” Hafdis took his hand again and nodded encouragingly. “You were tickling him and he doesn’t like that.”

Odr grunted quietly this time, leaning heavily into Fili's palm as he scratched at the surprisingly soft skin behind the ear. He smiled at Hafdis, making sure to keep an eye on the pig. “I think he's enjoying it a little.”

“He definitely is. Look at him, he’s smiling.”

Fili crouched down a little to look, moving carefully so as not to spook the beast. Smiling was a bit of a stretch of the imagination but Odr did appear to be contented enough, perhaps a little less murderous looking.

“Did you not have pets growing up?”

Fili glanced up at her as he shook his head. “There were ponies but they belonged to everyone.” He increased the pressure and Odr made a little happy sounding noise, shuffling a little closer to the fence. “They weren't really pets. And there were a few cats, Bombur had a big stripy one that seemed to live in his kitchen I think. We would have seen it out and about.”

He smiled as he remembered. “Ask Gimli about it, it hated him for some reason. But they weren't exactly pets either. More pest control.”

Hafdis looked at him and appeared to be considering something. She nodded. “Well, I think everyone should have something to look after. It would be good for you. So if you like I'd be willing to share Odr. I'll show you how to look after him properly.”

“I'd like that.” Fili grinned up at her as she beamed back at him happily.

“But you have to treat him kindly.”

Fili nodded. “I will, I promise.”

“Good. And you'll also have to promise to commit, I wouldn't want Odr to get used to you and then you get bored and stop coming. He's very sensitive.”

Fili looked back at the pig and nodded again. It would be nice to do something different, with someone different. Break the monotony of working with Thorin, training for nothing and then spending every single evening with the same faces talking about the same things. And not talking about the same things. Everyone tip toeing around him like he was some sort of brittle, fragile creature. Like he was unstable. Whispering behind his back and exchanging worried glances that they thought he didn't see.

It felt like he lived for his once a month, heavily supervised, outing to Bard’s. The walls of Erebor slowly closing in on him, suffocating him whilst he counted down the days between trips. It made him feel guilty, not to be satisfied with his lot. He was a prince. With a fine home and family and friends to love him. He had much to be grateful for.

Fili leaned his free arm on the fence rail and rested his chin on his forearm as he watched himself scratch at the contented pig, feeling a strange affinity for the smelly creature.

We’re kindred spirits you and I, he thought as he stretched his fingers a little further over the bristly hide. I’m as much able to leave the mountain of my own free will as you are.

“You say all that now.” Hafur disturbed his gloomy thoughts, the fence creaking as he leaned his back against it. He nudged Fili in the ribs with a sharp elbow and grinned. “But you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. Wait until you see what happens when you stop petting the beast. My advice is to move fast because this fence will barely slow him down.”

Hafur scratched at his beard and made a show of thinking. “Actually, it might be a better idea all round if we bring your dinner out to you.” He nudged Fili again and winked at him conspiratorially. “What is it tonight anyway? Sausages? I’m pretty sure that was it.”

* * *

“I think you could begin to allow him a little freedom, Thorin. It’s the summer fair soon.”

“He’s been to Dale with you to see Bard, not so very long ago. And he’ll be going again at the end of the month.”

Dis shook her head. Sometimes her brother could be blind. “That was with me. I mean let him go with dwarves his own age, without his amad. I’ll give Gimli the day off. I’m sure the girl and her brother would join them.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. Thorin stared back.

Oblivious, Dis thought. Completely oblivious. Mahal give me strength.

“I don’t think he’s interested in the girl, Dis. Not in that way.”

“Friends will do fine for now. That’s how these things generally start anyway, and Durin knows he needs friends.”

Thorin smiled. “I think you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Of course I approve.” Thorin leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “She’s Dain’s niece, it would be a fine match. More than fine. I just think you are getting very ahead of yourself.”

Dis snorted. She didn’t think so. Gloin was running a book and he was seldom wrong about these things. She had been very concerned when she had first saw the odds on for Bard’s eldest girl, but all that had changed when Hafdis started joining her brother at the training yard, a short bow in hand and a quiver on her hip. The three of them had been inseparable ever since and, despite prowling about at times like a caged animal, Fili seemed to her a little if not happier then at least accepting of his situation.

It had done her heart good when Dwalin had first told her how Fili had begun a tentative friendship with the lad. Gimli had been busy with other duties leaving Dwalin to train with Fili. He had been briefly called away to sort out a disagreement and when he returned the two had been sparring.

They were evenly matched, Dwalin had told Dis with a smile. It was a good challenge for Fili, and kept him from badgering Dwalin for bouts. The lad, Hafur, was a boisterous loudmouth. Cocky and sure of himself, full of mischief and seemingly completely incapable of treating Fili with any respect, sympathy or caution.

It was exactly what Fili needed, Dis felt. She had worried that Fili was lonely, he needed more company of his own age. And the girl had been a lovely surprise.

She may have asked Molir to place a small, discrete wager.

“Thorin, we’ve talked and talked about tying him to us and to the mountain. This is how we do it. You can’t keep him trapped forever. That's not sustainable. Let him go to the fair. He hasn’t even thought to ask and I think it would be a very nice gesture if you suggested it to him.”

Thorin sighed heavily, Dis could see his good humour ebbing away.

“It’s a horrible feeling, knowing my nephew hates me.”

“Nonsense, of course he doesn’t hate you.”

“I have trapped him, like you say. He-”

“You had good cause and I’m sorry I haven’t been more supportive.”

“Better that he doesn’t hate both of us, I suppose.”

Dis refilled her glass and considered him properly. His mouth downturned and looking the picture of misery. She reached out and kicked his shin, hard. “Stop that. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I can’t have both of you trailing around each other like the weight of Middle-earth itself is on your shoulders. I’m heartbroken too but there are worse places we could be and worse situations we could be in.”

She thought for a moment. “We’ve been in some of them. No, we must learn to make the best of it. And that means that you must build bridges. Take Fili aside and talk to him. Actually, don't talk. Listen. And then once you're done listening and he's done talking be completely honest and tell him how you're feeling.”

He looked at her like she'd asked him to run naked through Dale on market day.

“I know, brother. I'm not very good at it either but we'll just both have to try harder.”

“He won't talk to me, not now. He says the bare minimum that he can get away with to be polite when we are in company and he won't speak a single word more to me directly than necessary. He barely looks at me. I've tried to talk to him in private but I may as well talk to the wall.”

Dis tried to decide how best to explain the difference between talking to Fili and talking at him.

It might be easier to give him a script to follow, she thought. He could spread it across his knees. Or learn it. Although I'd have to stand behind him and flick his ear when he inevitably deviated from it.

“I've just had a much better idea. Take him for a spar-”

Thorin snorted.

“-let him try to put you on your back. Although be aware that he might actually do it. He got the better of Dwalin a few days back. Twice.”

“Really?”

“Dwalin was having a bad day apparently. I wouldn’t mention it to him if I were you, he's still very sore about it. You can’t keep skulking about each other, you have to try. Even if he means he knocks you on your backside-”

“I’d like to see him try.”

“-or you knock him on his. I don’t care. I just need you both to start working things out.”

He huffed out a breath and drained his glass. “I have tried, I have tried so many times. He won’t-”

“You are his uncle and he loves you. He would do anything for you so you have to try harder. Talk to him.”

Thorin grumbled something, Dis chose to take it as agreement.

“Good, and you can also speak to him about the summer fair. Offer him a little freedom. I’ll make arrangements with Nori, I’m expect he and some of the others will want to visit Dale that day too.”

* * *

It felt familiar, Fili thought as he lightly drummed his heels against the stone bench. Watching his kin as they sparred, his own muscles still burning from his bouts. The sweat cooling him as it dried on his skin. And a dark haired archer sitting by his side, their head bowed quietly over fletching.

He'd been sparring in the centre of the floor when she had walked confidently into the training hall all those weeks ago, a bow in hand and a full quiver on her hip. Her head held high.

Distracted, Fili had barely dodged a lunge from Hafur and watched her position herself in front of a target. The look of concentration on her face and her fluid movements as she drew and fired pulling buried memories to mind and twisting painfully at his heart.

Hafur had struck him on the shoulder. Hard.

“You're dead.” The practice sword pressed against Fili's throat, lifting his chin. Hafur stepped closer and followed his gaze. “And that's my little sister.”

Fili had nodded, he'd known that much.

He realised her fingers had stopped and she was looking at him curiously.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Fili shook his head. Kili had shown him how to shape and fix fletching a thousand times, he'd never been able to get it quite right.

“My hands are too big and clumsy, I'd make a mess of-"

“Nonsense.” Hafdis shuffled closer on the bench. “You're more than capable. I'll slow down and you just watch carefully.”

He watched her delicate, nimble fingers and it was all suddenly too much to bear. He felt tired and terribly lonely.

“I miss him.” The words were out and once he'd started he couldn't seem to stop them. “I'm not supposed to talk about him but I think about him all the time. Every moment of every day. I dream of him. I dream that we're sitting together just like this and we're talking. About our days, or what we might do tomorrow. Nothing of consequence. Nothing important. Then I wake up with the words still on my lips and he's not here and I can't talk to him and I miss him so much.”

Her hands had stopped again and he knew she was looking at him. Fili kept his eyes firmly fixed on her fingers and tried to take a breath, not quite able to believe he'd said it all out loud.

“I can't begin to imagine how hard it is for you.”

Her voice was low and kind. Fili swallowed around the sudden painful lump in his throat. His eyes burned.

“You must feel so lost.”

He nodded. He did.

“I mean, most days there's at least one moment when I feel certain that I could cheerfully strangle Hafur. But I really can't imagine my life without him in it, and I wouldn't want to. It doesn't bear thinking about.”

Fili nodded again, not quite trusting himself to speak as he felt the old ache in his chest. He blinked and her fingers blurred.

“Uncle Dain told me about you two, years ago now,” Hafdis said as her fingers started moving again on the fletching, “and I knew then that I wanted to study archery. I badgered at Adad and at Dain until they agreed. It took years. Undwarvish they said. Stick to your axe and your knives. I’ve never told anyone that I wanted to learn because I needed to protect my big brother.”

Fili could hear the smile in her voice as she continued.

“You know Hafur well enough by now. He's a reckless, arrogant fool. If he is ever in battle he'll be the first to charge and the last to retreat and he'll need me to watch his back.”

Fili lifted his head. “But then, who will watch yours?”

“Well, that's why he'll be the first to charge in and the last to fall back. Because he is watching mine. He wouldn't think twice about throwing his life away if it meant I might live.”

That made sense. Fili's eyes found Hafur in the centre of the hall, watched him as he roared in challenge at his opponent, spinning his sword and beckoning.

Beside him Hafdis shook her head.

“He'll never change.” She smiled affectionately at her brother and Fili felt a nasty little sting of jealousy. “Hopefully anyway. The idiot. Don't tell him I told you?”

Fili shook his head, feeling he owed her a secret even if it wasn't completely his to tell. He looked at her neatly braided beard.

“I didn't shave my beard off to show solidarity with Thorin. It was to show solidarity with Kili. We couldn't get his to stop catching every single time he took a shot, it was like it had a life of it's own. Unruly and untameable.” He shared a smile with her. “We tried everything before we realised that either bow or beard had to go. He didn't want to do it so I took a blade and cut mine off. I'd no idea what I was doing. I was lucky I didn’t cut my own throat my hands were shaking so hard.”

They'd been horrified. Thorin had recovered first, leading him back into the bathroom and helping him tidy himself up. Kili had joined them later, a resigned look on his face as he wordlessly handed his blade to Thorin and tugged off his shirt.

Fili smiled as he remembered. Hafdis smiled back at him and gave him a little nudge with her shoulder.

“You can talk about him with me. Anytime you like and for as long as you like. I'd be happy to hear all your stories, and I'm very good at keeping secrets.”


	4. The letter

Hafdis could feel Fili at her shoulder as she rifled through the stallholders fabrics. She had a suspicion he was protecting her from the crush of the mannish crowd, which was quite sweet. Completely unnecessary of course, but she appreciated it all the same. She nudged him.

“What do you think of this one?”

“For who?”

She was surprised by that, she’d half expected a groan or a complaint. “For my amad. She asked me to bring her back a present.”

“What is it for?” He moved the man beside her out of the way and ran a thumb over the fabric.

“I thought for sleeves.”

He genuinely looked like he was giving it some consideration. Hafdis watched him curiously as he nodded and began to sift through the fabrics, pulling out a rich green. He laid it beside the blue that she had chosen and drummed his fingers against the wooden boards of the stall.

“Hafdis!”

She turned as Hafur pushed his way through the crowd toward them.

“Why are you still shopping? How many stalls has she dragged you around, Fili?” Hafur rolled his eyes at Fili with a grin and wagged a finger at her. “He’s only tolerating this because he’s so happy to be outside, you do know that? Pick whatever it is you’re-”

“It’s a present for Amad.”

“Oh. Well, you can say it’s from me too. Pick whatever it is and be quick about it, Gimli is holding a table for us outside the tavern and we were intending to wait on you two before we eat but honestly, sister. It’s not fair. It’s his one day of freedom and you are torturing him.”

“Am I torturing you?”

Fili shook his head, looked a bit embarrassed.

“Let me show you, Fili. You’re not used to sisters. You can’t be polite or they’ll just walk all over you. Come to think of it, you’re probably not used to girls at all. Watch this closely and learn from me. Is it between these two colours? Is that the decision she’s wrestling with?” Hafur tapped at his lip and huffed out a dramatic breath as he made a show of thinking. He winked at Fili and made sure she could see. “This one.” He pointed to the green.

“You don’t even know what it’s for,” said Hafdis.

“Does it matter? Oh, sorry. I mean, it’ll go with her eyes.” He nudged Fili hard. “If in doubt say ‘it goes with her eyes’ because that is the answer to almost everything in this world. Doesn’t matter whose eyes. Unless it’s your wife that’s asking I suppose, and then you’ll have to make sure to say ‘yours, my love' and definitely not ‘hers’, or you’ll be walking around like that friend of yours. The one with the axe in his head. Is that what happened to him by the way? I bet it was. Now, sister, pay the nice man and let’s go.”

They watched him push his way through the crowd in the direction of the tavern.

Fili shrugged and turned to her. “The reason I was suggesting the green is because your amad will likely use whatever you buy her for updating her dresses for the autumn, and the blue, although very nice is less rich and...autumn like.” He flushed a little and shuffled his feet as she stared at him. “Amad has always been very careful with her fine clothes, I think because she didn’t have very many, so she would spend a lot of time picking colours and fabric. She always wanted our opinions.”

He looked a little sad as he stroked a thumb over the green fabric, his thoughts obviously miles away.

“I agree,” she said and watched as he pulled himself back from memories, likely of his brother. She was coming to recognise the look.

“You and your amad are very similar colouring to my amad, and I know she would look lovely in this colour.”

“Then the green it is.” Hafdis smiled at him and clicked her fingers at the harassed looking stallholder. “Thank you, I think I owe you a drink for your help, or perhaps even two if we have enough time.”

“I think we’ve enough time.”

* * *

“Here we are, sorry it took so long. I had to go to the inn on the far side, didn’t want Gimli spotting me and giving the game away. It's very busy, took ages to get served.”

Nori accepted the tankard and smiled at Bofur. He wasn’t sure Dis and Thorin would appreciate them drinking whilst on watch, but the mannish ale was weak stuff. Barely more than water really. And it was a warm day, it wouldn’t do to become dehydrated and sluggish.

“Still shopping are they?”

“Second stall on the left.”

“Fili must be going out of his mind.”

Nori shrugged. Their prince seemed content enough, which made a pleasant change. If he had to put coin on it Nori would even have wagered that the lad was relaxed, by the set of his shoulders and the easy smile on his face. He looked along the alleyway.

“We’re probably drawing more attention to ourselves by skulking about in the shadows. I've been having a look and I think there’s an easy way to the roof of that building. Follow me and I'll show you.” He grinned at Bofur. “May as well sit in the sunshine and sup our ales whilst we keep an eye on things.”

* * *

As their punishment for being late and keeping Hafur waiting they were pointed toward the crowded tavern to fetch drinks and order food. There was a little argument about payment which Hafdis thought she had won, right up until the moment she reached for her coin-purse and realised with a start and a bit of a panic that it was gone. She had searched frantically through her layers, cursing, as she heard Fili place their order. The smile in his voice had given him away.

With the purse safely back on her belt and tankards in her hands she followed in his wake. She’d almost forgiven him by the time they pushed their way back through the crowd and out into the bright afternoon sunshine. Hafur budged up on the crowded bench to make room as she settled herself beside him, Fili clambering in beside Gimli opposite.

“Very sensible.” Gimli nodded in approval as Fili moved some of the tankards to the little patch of shade at the end of their table. “Two each, and you managed to spill not too much of it. I’m assuming that the fuller ones were the ones you were carrying, Hafdis?”

“I think we might have to shift the tankards actually,” said Fili, “and put you in the shade instead. You’re looking a bit pink-cheeked, cousin.”

“That’ll be the four ales we’ve had whilst we’ve been waiting on you two.” Hafur waved the stem of his pipe between them as he settled back against the wall of the inn. “Now, I’m assuming all the shopping and wandering about wasting valuable drinking time is done with, because I am telling you all now that I am settled here for the afternoon. The barkeep told me that there’s to be some sort of strength contest and then later there's to be dancing in the square and this is the perfect watching spot and I am not moving. Not for anything. I haven’t seen mannish dancing before and I am ready to be very impressed. Or throw things, I’m not sure and I’ll decide later. Did you think to order food, like I asked?”

“Fili!”

Hafdis had never met the man king’s daughter and she was quite surprised that the slight girl was wandering about to all intents and purposes unaccompanied, and seemingly completely unarmed. The thin belt wrapped around the princess's waist held not so much as one knife and she only wore some sort of flimsy slippers on her feet. No boots. It was very odd. Hafdis looked her up and down, wondering where she kept her weaponry, as Fili leapt to his feet, all smiles, and offered his space on the bench. He quickly introduced them and Sigrid returned her appraising look before turning back to Fili.

“I didn’t expect to see you here and then we got a message to say that you’d been spotted. I just had to come and find you. Hello, Gimli.” Sigrid smiled around the table warmly as she sat down. “Sit back down, Fili. Please. We’ll squeeze up and breathe in a bit won’t we, Gimli? See, plenty of space.”

Hafdis watched as Fili climbed back in, apologising to the man on the other side of him. He pulled a tankard down the table and offered it to Sigrid who accepted very prettily, chatting happily about her adad who was currently judging some sort of gardening competition in the city hall and apparently going slowly mad.

Hafur nudged Hafdis hard in the ribs and distracted her, spilling some of her drink into her lap as he excitedly and loudly pointed out the competitors gathering on the opposite side of the square. They clapped and cheered with the rest of the table and when Hafdis looked back Sigrid had her lips by Fili’s ear, the two of them turned to each other and deep in some obviously private conversation. Fili noticed her watching and coloured as their eyes met.

“I think I might go and see Bard.” He announced to the table. Hafdis didn’t miss the glance he gave the girl. “Try not to let anyone steal my seat and I’ll not be long. Would you like me to escort you back, Sigrid?”

“Yes please, that would be lovely.” Sigrid took a drink and his offered hand. “Thank you, Fili.”

“Really?” Gimli grumbled, struggling out of the bench and draining his tankard as Fili helped Sigrid to her feet. “I’m going to miss the wrestling.”

“You can stay here. I’m safe enough in Dale.”

“No.” Gimli eyed Fili. “Of course I can’t, behave yourself. Let’s go and look at these vegetables or whatever it is Bard is doing.” He pointed at Hafdis and Hafur. “My drink had better still be here when I get back.”

The wrestling was long over, their food had arrived and the men were doing something unnecessarily complicated with ropes by the time Fili and Gimli returned. They disappeared into the bar and reappeared with more drinks. Hafdis had moved to Gimli’s seat in his absence to stop Hafur complaining that her hair was in his way and Fili climbed in beside her, setting a fresh tankard in front of her and helping himself to some bread and cheese.

He looked happy, she thought as she watched him laugh at something Hafur said.

She waited until Gimli was mid argument with Hafur about which of the remaining combatants was likely to win before she leant in to Fili. “You look like you’re having a good day.”

He turned away from watching the contest and smiled at her, his eyes lighting up. “I am. A really good day.” He looked like he was going to say something more but stopped himself.

“Go on.” She smiled and nudged him.

He swallowed the last of his bread and cheese and licked his fingers before smiling at her. “Will you walk with me?”

* * *

It was quieter out of the square. Hafdis dropped his hand once they were through the main press of the crowd and moved to walk by his side.

“Where are we going?”

Fili glanced over his shoulder, he couldn’t see Nori but he was definitely behind them somewhere. He had barely recognised Bofur earlier when he’d walked out of the hall and said his farewell to Bard. He smiled, wondering how many others Thorin had arranged to tail him. Everyone, probably. He was looking forward to seeing how Dwalin intended to attempt to disguise himself, it was far too warm for cloaks and hoods. “This way.”

He grabbed her hand again as they passed a crowd of men heading toward the square and pulled her into an alley. Hafdis followed quietly, probably wondering what he was up to. They crossed another street, this one quieter, and entered another shadowy alley.

“Fili?”

“We’re being followed. Don’t look.” He nodded to her in approval as she managed to not turn, her free hand straying to the hilt of a knife in her belt. “It’s fine, you’re not in any danger. It’s just Thorin keeping a watch on me. Nothing to worry about. I just want to make them work a little. Let’s head for the stables, there’s a stair behind that leads up onto the inner walls. If we’re quick about it we can get up and watch for them from there.”

The area around the stables was silent, everyone still at the fair. Fili nodded to the stablehand as they passed him, the boy looking the picture of misery. He flipped the lad a coin.

“You didn’t see us.”

The boy nodded happily and touched his forelock. Taking a final glance around Fili pulled Hafdis into the narrow entry between the stables and the fodder store. They ran quickly between the buildings until they reached the high stone wall and raced up the set of uneven steps, ducking in behind the parapet at the top.

Hafdis grinned at him. She looked like she was enjoying herself.

“Did Amad recruit you too by any chance? Have I made an error of judgement and taken a spy with me?”

She shook her head. “She didn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow at her

“I’m not. I promise!”

“We’ll see.” He hushed her as she protested and together they watched as Bofur and Nori walked out from between two buildings.

They strolled along to the stables and spoke at length with the boy. Fili smiled as they watched the lad shrug and shake his head. He owed the youngster another coin, he reckoned.

Nori disappeared out of sight into the stables, re-emerging after a few moments. The stablehand wandered off and after a fierce debate the dwarves hurried away, turning into an alleyway.

Hafdis made to stand.

“Wait a moment.” Fili placed a hand on her sleeve and watched the alley, half expecting Nori to reappear.

“Do you know who they are?”

“Of course, the shorter one was Nori and the one with the limp is Bofur. You likely wouldn’t recognise him without his hat but he can’t hide the way he favours his left leg, an injury from the battle.”

“Nori?”

“Looks completely different, doesn’t he? Took me a moment to recognise him with his hair braided like that, I walked straight past him earlier and didn’t realise. A clever disguise, simple but effective.”

“What do we do now?”

Fili shrugged, he turned and sat down against the wall, stretching his feet out in front of him. The sun-heated stone was warm and soothing against his back. Hafdis did likewise, smoothing and tidying her skirts. She leaned her head back against the wall and smiled at him.

“You mightn’t get your freedom again if you hide away for too long.”

He nodded in agreement and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “Can we stay here just a few moments? It’s nice to not be watched for a little while.”

He felt her shift beside him and opened his eyes. She grinned. “Just getting myself comfortable. Close your eyes again and relax, I’m in no hurry. It’s nice here, quiet.”

Fili settled himself back again. The sun was warm against his closed eyelids and the light breeze drifting over the inner city wall played over his skin. He placed a hand flat over the letter, tucked safely inside his tunic.

Bard had taken him aside when they arrived in the hall, relief written across his face as he took Fili’s hand in both of his and thanked him in a whisper for coming to his rescue. Leaving Gimli with the children, and a table of cakes to sample, Bard had steered Fili into an empty side chamber. He'd closed the door, a wide grin on his face.

“What?” Fili had asked as Bard pushed him back and into a chair. He’d laughed, wondering what his friend could possibly be up to. “Bard?

Bard pulled the letter from his pocket and Fili had drawn in a breath, recognising his brother’s hurried script immediately. He thought that he might have made some small noise. Bard had knelt, pressed the letter into his hand, clasped his shoulder and told him in a low voice to take as long as he needed. Telling him that he would personally guard the door and make sure Fili wasn’t disturbed. He’d touched his forehead to Fili’s, smiled at him again and left. The door pulled quietly closed after him. Fili had sat unmoving for some time, the chamber silent apart from his own ragged breathing, holding the precious letter in shaking hands.

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

Fili jumped at the touch of her hand on his, feeling the blood rush to his face.

“You were, weren’t you?” Hafdis smiled. “Ale and sunshine, a lethal combination.”

He nodded in agreement and stretched, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I was just watching the clouds and I spoke to you and you didn’t respond. You looked very peaceful. I wasn’t going to wake you but we should probably be getting back before you are actually reported missing.”

Fili nodded and rolled to his feet, offering her his hand and drawing her up to hers. He scrubbed a hand through his hair to shake off the lingering drowsiness.

Hafdis smiled back at him as they made their way toward the steps. “I’m glad you got a little rest though, you’ve been looking very tired recently. I was getting a bit worried.”

She turned away and he followed her slowly down, his fingers trailing over the notches and the damage to the thick stone wall as they descended. The work of a troll using some sort of mace, he reckoned. Orcs wouldn't have had the strength, or the reach. Or the stupidity to waste their strength hammering on stone for that matter. He stopped to inspect a missing section of handrail and decided to speak to Thorin again about offering Bard some of their stonemasons. Dale should be beautiful. The city should be repaired as a priority. It was the gateway to Erebor, after all.

“Fili, come on.”

Hafdis waggled her fingers at him from the base of the steps and he ran down to her, taking her hand and letting her lead him back toward the square.

He felt a little touched by her concern and that she’d cared enough about him to notice, although he had thought he'd hidden his exhaustion well. He couldn't remember when he'd last slept properly. Certainly not for weeks, plagued by increasingly terrible nightmares and restlessness.

Gimli had threatened to let him sleep alone and Fili had told him to take his things and go. Growling that he hadn’t asked his cousin to take over his bed with his icy cold feet, his blanket stealing and his snoring. They’d fallen out for a few days, moving silently around each other, Gimli pointedly wearing his socks to bed until Fili had apologised.

Perhaps now, he thought. His heart feeling lighter. Perhaps now that there is news I will finally get a night’s rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the last chapter of 2020! 
> 
> I hope you are enjoying the story so far. I've had a lot of fun rediscovering writing this year and I really appreciate absolutely everyone who has given some of their precious time to read something that I've written. Thank you so, so much. 
> 
> Wishing you and yours a safe and peaceful festive season and a very happy new year.


	5. Don’t you want to read Kili’s news?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the wonderful Amintadefender who very kindly gave me a lot of help with grammar for this chapter. 
> 
> I hope I've made the suggested changes correctly, but I've got my doubts. If you spot any mistakes they are most definitely mine!

The chamber fell silent. Even from several steps away Fili could see the tremble in his amad’s hand as she turned the first page of the letter. Reluctantly Fili tore his eyes away from her and looked at his uncle.

“Well?” Thorin sounded exasperated. “Go on. Explain yourself.”

Fili already had, several times. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to make it any plainer. But it had been a good day and he was of a mind to keep Thorin happy, and so he tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Uncle. I don’t see how you can be angry with me. How could I possibly have known you sent half the mountain to follow me? I was hardly in any danger in Dale, and, even if I was, I’m not exactly defenceless.” He kept his gaze level and looked Thorin steadily in the eye.

Thorin sighed heavily. “When did you become so adept at lying to me?”

That did not require an answer. Fili watched his amad sink into a seat slowly, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes. He wanted to join her and hear her thoughts. If an apology was what it would take to finish this circular and pointless conversation, no matter that he had nothing to apologise for, then he would do it. “I’m sorry—”

“For lying to me?”

Fili blinked. “No. I’m sorry for worrying Dwalin and the others. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to go for a walk and have a few moments to myself to think, away from the noise and the crush of the crowd. I didn’t see the need to take Gimli with me. But if I had known that I was being guarded and it would cause so much fuss then I would, of course, have behaved differently.”

When Fili and Hafdis had returned to their table outside the inn the sun was beginning to sink behind the tall buildings, taking some of the fierce heat of the day with it and bathing the square in a pleasant orange glow. The dancing and the merry music were well underway, and Fili was just passing a fresh tankard to Gimli and lifting one for himself, when a big hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Dwalin’s familiar growl had been low and full of barely controlled anger in Fili’s ear, letting him know in no uncertain terms that his day out in Dale was at an end.

Fili shrugged and smiled at his uncle. “I will know for next time.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes, and Fili made an effort to keep his own wide and innocent, not sure if he managed to strike quite the right level of contriteness. Unable to stop himself his eyes drifted across to Amad. She seemed to have reached the end of the letter and sat with a hand raised to her mouth, looking stunned. He watched as she gathered herself and turned back to the first page. Fili smiled. He had done exactly the same thing himself whilst sat in the hall in Dale, hardly able to believe that it was real.

With a grunt that seemed to signal the end of the conversation Thorin turned and made his way across the antechamber and into his study. Fili took the chance to rush across to the table and drop into the seat next to Amad. She swiped quickly at her eyes and folded up the letter carefully, handing it to him with an unsteady smile.

Fili got the impression that she didn’t trust herself to speak. He pulled her into a tight hug. “He’s safe and well,” he whispered into her ear.

Thorin was talking again. Fili lifted his head and watched his uncle stride across the room toward them, a stack of papers in his hand. He stroked his amad’s hair and forced himself to listen.

“—from preliminary reports it all looks excellent. Balin, Dain and I went through the figures earlier whilst you were out enjoying yourself. Here, take a look.” Thorin spread the sheaf of parchment across the table in front of Fili.

“Now?” Fili glanced down at the neat lines of figures and back to his uncle. The new mineshaft. Hardly what he had intended to talk about, when he had managed to finally extract the two of them from the dinner hall. “I’ve had a few ales today so perhaps tomorrow might be better. Don’t you want to read Kili’s news?”

Thorin dismissively waved the letter away. Fili swallowed hard as he watched his uncle gather up the papers. He should have expected nothing less, but it was still a bitter disappointment. He released his amad, who whispered something he didn’t catch, and stood as he tucked the letter away safely next to his heart.

“Tomorrow will do fine,” Thorin said, smiling as he handed the papers to Fili. “Take it with you this evening and read it. We’ll talk properly in the morning. But be sure not to share it, not even with Gimli. The less of our people who know the better, until we are certain that it can be made operational. I have a long list of dwarves awaiting mining roles and I wouldn’t want to raise hopes prematurely.”

Fili unclenched his jaw. He handed the papers back to Thorin, a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. “Perhaps it would be best to leave them here. I am meeting friends in my rooms and I expect that they are making themselves comfortable there already. I wouldn’t want to accidentally let something slip.”

Thorin nodded and Fili breathed deeply. He was getting a little tired of being treated like a dwarfling, but losing his temper over something as trivial as his uncle thinking he was incapable of keeping confidential state issues to himself would not help. Not if he wanted Thorin to ever allow him more responsibility.

“I’m glad you are here anyway. I wanted to ask for your assistance.”

Beside him, Fili saw Amad lift her head, and he wasn’t sure, but he felt she had glared briefly at Thorin. He felt a little like glaring himself. It had been he who had rushed Thorin out of the dinner hall as soon as it was polite. So certain, wrongly as it turned out, that the letter would prompt an actual conversation about Kili.

“—too much fine food and wine.” Thorin placed a hand on his stomach, patting at it. “I'm starting to run to fat. I’m sure you’ve noticed. In fact I'd imagine you could easily best me now, since you do so much training.”

Fili forced himself to remain silent as Thorin smiled at him. It was true that he spent a lot of time in the training hall. But, stripped of all his roles and imprisoned as he was in the mountain, Fili's only real purpose was to sit quietly at Thorin's right hand in meetings and keep his opinions to himself. Even asking him to read a report was just a silly, pretend exercise. Any decision regarding the mineshaft had already been made. He would have no influence. Fili knew it and Thorin knew it.

Sometimes, Thorin would give him easy, mindless tasks, as if he were still a youngster and to help his uncle was some sort of wonderful prize. But, outside meetings and occasional easy royal duties such as visiting the miners and making banal, encouraging noises, Fili's options were narrowed down to study, drink, or train.

He'd always found solace in learning. Languages, history, anything he could get his hands on. The huge, dusty library in the depths of Erebor had been mercifully left mostly unscathed by Smaug, and once he was back on his feet after the battle Fili trawled through it with Balin. The pair of them exclaiming in wonder over its treasures.

The library was Ori’s domain and responsibility now, and he and his little army of scribes were still busily cataloguing its contents a year on, and likely would be similarly busy with it for many years to come. Sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep, Fili would call down and the torches would still be burning. Ori smiling from his huge carved desk and beckoning Fili in to have a pot of tea, or perhaps work on a tricky section that Ori couldn’t get to and claimed not to trust his scribes with. It was nice to feel needed. Fili enjoyed it and wished he could spend more of his time there, but all of his visits during working hours caused too much fuss.

There was always a selection of books that Ori set aside for him. Texts that he’d happened across and thought might be of interest, and Fili would take them away and try his best. But he couldn't settle. Nothing held his interest for long. He’d find himself reading the same sentence over and over before setting the book down in disgust. Ori understood, but he kept trying anyway.

It just wasn't the same without Kili curled up opposite. His nose buried in his maps or his fingers busy with his fletching. Or complaining that he was bored and didn't Fili want to go outside, or go for a spar, or do literally anything else? A socked foot poking at his thigh insistently until Fili would sigh and mark his page.

And it wasn’t the same without Ness. He’d spent many happy hours reading aloud to her, a finger following the runes in the hope she'd, at last, take something in. In bed with her curled tightly against him, or sat cosily together in his chair by the fire. Her fingers weaving lazily through his hair as she promised him that she really was paying very close attention.

As for drinking. He was already doing far too much of that. Sometimes it was fun, but more and more often it made him unhappy. Its effects were becoming unpredictable. He would watch himself turn into a horribly argumentative and belligerent creature, and be completely unable to stop it. During those times Fili didn't recognise himself and the loss of control worried him.

So training it had to be. Fili had never felt stronger. Or more miserable.

“Perhaps we should train together? You're much more disciplined than I am—"

That was a lie. Fili clenched his teeth together to stop the words escaping. He knew it was a lie because he knew that, without fail, Thorin trained every morning, before breakfast for two hours, with Dwalin. He knew this because the training hall was closed to everyone else during those times. Fili watched Thorin's hand as it rested against his flat stomach and wondered what his uncle was up to.

“—we should maybe have a spar first. So you can work out what you are dealing with. It's been a long time since we—"

Fili raised a hand to stop Thorin before his temper slipped any further. He had no intention of being made a fool of and agreeing to a fight he couldn't possibly win. He told Thorin so. A small and unlikeable part of him enjoying the hurt look on his uncle's face as he reminded Thorin that it would be ridiculous. Not to mention politically unwise. “Imagine for a moment, if by some twist of fate, I actually won. How would that look?”

“Ah.” Thorin wagged a finger at him playfully. Fili ground his teeth. “But you'd have to win first. If you're worried about losing face, we—"

Fili raised a hand again as the heat rose within him. “I am too old for play-acting, so if you are looking for some sport, you may look elsewhere. Perhaps Gimli would be willing, or Molir.” He was aware how spiteful he sounded, but it would be a sham, a performance and not a real test. He couldn’t put the king to the ground, even if he were capable of it, and so Fili wasn’t interested. He couldn’t understand why Thorin would even think to suggest it. The last time they had sparred, before they left for Erebor, Kili had been by his side, and Thorin had still defeated them.

“How—” he asked, hearing his voice crack with anger. Anger, that was preferable to the tears that he knew were not far enough away, when he recalled how the three of them had laughed together after their bout. Kili’s laughter, loudest and longest as always, rang in his ears. Yet another soured memory. Fili blinked hard to clear his misty eyes, furious with himself for yet again showing weakness. “—could I possibly hope to best you when I'm only half what I once was, and even when I was whole, it wasn't good enough?”

Thorin's face darkened as they locked eyes.

A chair scraped against stone and Amad placed a hand flat on Fili’s chest. “I think,” she said, in a voice that brooked no argument, “you are a little overtired, my son. Stop glaring at your uncle and look at me. Good boy. You’ve had a long and exciting day, and it’s past time you were in bed.”

* * *

Molir stood on guard outside Thorin’s chambers but Fili only nodded in greeting, not trusting himself to speak as he turned toward his own rooms. He counted his steps along the passageway and concentrated on his breathing. In and out. One deep breath in for every four steps. Emptying his chest fully over the next four. A trick to force anger to dissipate that Ness had taught him. By the time he reached the two helmed guards at the junction he was able to smile and exchange a few words about good weather and the skill of the musicians at dinner.

Taking the turn that led to his chambers, and once out of sight of the guards, he slowed his steps and trailed his fingertips along the stone. Counting the joins and cracks under his breath. Another trick to push bad thoughts away. He reached thirty by the time he arrived at the double doors of his chambers, a little different to the last time. It was always different but he found it soothing nevertheless. The sound of merry laughter from inside as he placed his hand flat against the door dispelled the remnants of his temper, and he pushed open the door to find Gimli, Hafur and Hafdis sprawled in front of a cosy fire, playing a game of cards. They looked up and smiled at him as he closed the door and shucked off his boots.

Several bottles of wine were opened and emptied before they agreed that it was best all round to abandon the cards and avoid bloodshed. Fili leaned back against the warmth of the hearth and rolled his shoulders slowly, trying to rid himself of the lingering tension from his clash with Thorin. He closed his eyes and imagined the touch of delicate, familiar fingers on his skin. Concentrating hard he blocked out the voices of the others and heard Ness. The comforting music of her soft grumbles and complaints as she worked on stretching and caring for his tight muscles. Caring for him. His skin burned at the memory of lips pressed lightly against his neck, her signal to him that her hands were hurting and she was done.

It couldn’t go on, this fighting. It happened every single time he spoke with his uncle and it was unbearable. No matter how benign the subject, and no matter how much effort Fili made, it degenerated into an argument. He wasn’t sure whose fault it was or how to stop it, but it was tiresome and he needed it to end. The only blessing being that they’d managed to keep from each other's throats, so far, in public. Which showed a level of restraint from both of them, even if sometimes Fili was in danger of biting off his own tongue. He listened with half an ear as the others discussed the mannish dancing they’d managed to see, before Dwalin had arrived at their table and ordered them all back to the mountain.

“Fili, where’s that fiddle of yours?” Hafur demanded as he dragged Hafdis to her feet. “Come on, sister, I want to give this a try. Follow my lead and don’t step on my toes.”

Fili wasn’t in the mood to perform, but he didn’t want to ruin their fun either, so instead he and Gimli stamped their feet against the flagstones to give Hafur a beat. As he watched Hafur spin Hafdis around the chamber, somehow managing not to knock either of them off the furniture, Fili suddenly found himself laughing. He felt better, he supposed, as he watched them dance and Gimli topped up their glasses. It was good to be with friends. Dwarves he trusted and who trusted him. Despite the row with Thorin something that had been tightly screwed up inside him loosened, just a little.

Hafdis collapsed breathlessly to the floor in front of them and slapped her brother’s hands away as Hafur reached for her. “Stop it, no. Get off me. I’m done.” She snatched up her wine glass, spilling a little onto the rug.

As she grinned happily at him, her eyes sparkling, Fili made a decision. He took a deep breath and spoke quickly, before he could change his mind or think very much about it. “Hafdis, can I show you something?”

She nodded. Fili pushed himself upright and held out a hand to help her up, suddenly realising he was a little unsteady on his feet. He tried to quickly count the ales and the wines that he’d drank over the day and gave up. Perhaps it was a little bit more than he'd intended, but it didn't matter. He felt fine.

“What are you showing her?” Hafur turned away from trying to drag Gimli up to dance and looked at Fili suspiciously.

“Never you mind,” said Hafdis. “Lead the way, Fili.”

Hafur’s eyes hardened. “Now, I know you are not taking my little sister into your bedroom. Especially not after you took her away, unchaperoned, for hours this afternoon.”

Hafdis rolled her eyes at Fili before turning to Hafur. “You didn't mind then.”

“That’s because I didn't know then. Because I was watching the sports, when you both sneaked off without a word. I thought you had gone to the bar. Gimli thought you had gone to the bar. We had to throw a load of men off our table when we came back from looking for you.”

“There’s no need for concern, Hafur. Your sister is more than capable of looking after herself,” said Gimli.

Fili met his eyes, remembering the pious lecture about reputations Gimli had attempted to give him on the way back from Dale to the mountain.

“Let’s see,” said Gimli with a smile at Fili. “How many knives have you on you right now, Hafdis?”

Hafdis smiled. “Enough.”

“See. More than capable. She'll just knife him if he tries anything. And she should. We’ll back you up if it comes to it, Hafdis.”

“I'm not going to try anything.” Fili scowled at Gimli, who raised his glass and grinned back happily. He looked to Hafur. “I promise you that your sister is perfectly safe with me.”

“Why?” said Hafur, glowering even more than he had been. “What is wrong with my sister? Is she not good enough for you?”

“What?” Fili felt wrong footed. “No, I didn’t—"

“Don't.” Hafdis touched his arm and shook her head. “Don't rise to the bait, Fili. He's making fun. Come on.”

Fili thought a few unkind things as he closed the heavy door and blocked out the laughter behind them. Hafdis was busy touring the room, looking at everything with interest and he wondered briefly what he was doing. Thorin would kill him if he found out. He looked around the room quickly. Thankfully it was tidy. Mostly anyway. He lifted one of Gimli’s tunics and a throwing axe and tossed them into an open chest. His cousin seemed to leave a trail of belongings behind him everywhere he went. Completely incapable of putting anything away, and Gimli claimed not to even see the mess. It drove Fili mad. Hafdis smiled as he closed the lid.

“Oh, don’t worry about tidying up on my behalf. You should see Hafur’s chamber. It’s a disgrace. Apart from his weapons. They are nice and neatly arranged. But everything else looks as if a storm blew through it.” Hafdis smiled. “Twice. This is tidy, honestly. It’s a lovely room, and you even have a window.”

The window was a good idea. Fili crossed the chamber and stretched into the recess to swing the small reinforced pane outward to its full extent. That would air the room out a little. “Do you want to have a look out? I’ll get you something to stand on.” He dragged a chest across and Hafdis hopped up, standing on tiptoe as she wriggled her upper half into the recess.

“It must be nice to share,” she said, her voice muffled by the thick walls. “I’ve always had my own room. Oh, you can see the stars from here. This is lovely.”

“On a clear day you can see Mirkwood, and on to the mountains beyond.” Fili gathered up his books from the armchair nearest the fire and found Gimli’s spare tobacco pouch squashed in underneath them. He set it on the mantelpiece with a grimace. Gimli would be annoyed, he had been looking for it for days. He turned around, not sure where to put the books. “I’ve always shared,” he said, stacking them neatly by the hearth. That would do.

Hafdis pulled herself out of the recess. “Always?”

“Well, apart from…” Fili wasn’t sure how much to say. The wine had muddied his thoughts. It would have been sensible to have eaten more at dinner but he'd only picked at the food. Too excited about showing Kili’s letter to Thorin and to Amad to eat properly. He knew he couldn’t tell Hafdis the full and honest answer. That, apart from those last few guilt-filled weeks when he had slept alone because he could barely find it in him to look Kili in the eye, he had always shared his bed with his brother.

“Always,” he corrected himself. That was almost true. Completely true if you didn’t count the precious weeks when he had roamed his chambers and leaned out the same window as Hafdis. Staring up into the starry sky and counting down the hours until he could find an excuse to hold Ness in his arms again. He pushed the thoughts away before he could lose himself in memory and sadness. That would lead to more questions. None of which he could answer, ever, to anyone.

He smiled brightly at Hafdis as she looked at him curiously, her head tilted. “I’ve always shared. We had two beds but ever since Kili could walk, crawl really, he would make his way into mine. And he never left. But I didn’t mind, he was always warm.” They’d tried to sleep apart at various stages but it had never lasted for more than a night or two. Even during their worst quarrels, where they’d traded insults and blows, they always found their way back together. It was easier to whisper cosied up, even if the whispers were barbed rather than sweet, and they both slept deeper and easier within arms reach of the other.

“Somehow I had thought you would both be in rooms just like this.” Hafdis waved her hand around the chamber. “I’d imagined the pair of you sneaking back and forth. Dis chasing you to your own room at bedtime. Back at home Hafur and I had rooms right next to each other and we would tap where the stone was thinnest to talk. We had quite an elaborate secret code, I can still remember it now.”

Fili shook his head, again uncertain about how much to say. Thorin and Amad were a little prickly about their past financial situation and although Fili trusted Hafdis, she was still Dain’s niece. “Not like this, this is quite extravagant.”

In truth their entire house in the Blue Mountains would have fitted inside his rooms in Erebor, with space to spare. A main room with a small kitchen attached. Mismatched chairs by the fire. Amad’s room beside theirs and a tiny, always freezing cold, bathroom. He missed it. It was ungrateful of him but it was true. Even those mornings in the depths of winter when he would wake in the dark and stretch, the air of the bedchamber outside their blankets cold on his skin. Kili curled tightly against his chest, with his fingertips digging into Fili’s sides, as he grumbled that it was far too early to even think about getting up. Fili’s breath misting the air as he broke the thin layer of ice in their washbasin and woke himself properly. Lighting the fire and the kitchen stove to heat the house before Amad awoke, and crouching before one or the other to warm his fingers. The sound of their boots in step, loud in the early morning quiet of the settlement, as he walked with Kili at his shoulder toward their uncle’s chambers.

Erebor was a big adjustment. Perhaps with more time it would feel like home.

“And then Gimli moved in.” Hafdis shook him from memory as she jumped from the chest and made her way to one of the chairs. Settling herself into it she patted the arm of the other chair.

“Yes.” Fili hadn’t once been asked, or at least he didn’t think so. It was a bit of a blur but looking back to those terrible days Fili supposed that he may have been in some sort of shock. The arrival of his amad had both lifted and broken his heart. Though overjoyed to see her it also meant that Kili and Ness were forever and truly lost to him. His last little flicker of hope that he’d held so tightly on to, that Amad would meet Kili and Ness on the road and turn them around, that she would bring them back to him, extinguished in a moment. When she finally left him alone, with a strict instruction to rest, the wave of exhaustion and sorrow overwhelmed him. Unable to stop himself he sank to his knees as the door closed softly behind her, grateful to her for telling him what to do. Fili thought that Gimli arrived shortly after but he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it had been hours. Either way it had been Gimli who encouraged him up onto his feet and into bed. Fingers gently stroking Fili’s hair as Gimli filled the crushing silence with talk of a journey across Middle-earth. A very first trip outside the safety of the Blue Mountains. Full of silly, nonsense tales of arguments on the road, and no more peril than running out of pipeweed. Fili had fallen asleep to the sound of his cousin’s voice.

Sometimes Fili thought that if it hadn’t been for Gimli trailing him out of bed the next morning he would still be there.

He sat down in the armchair and stood up again immediately, realising he had nothing to offer Hafdis. “Do you want tea? Or more wine? I’ll go and get—”

“Sit, Fili. What’s wrong?” Hafdis leaned forward, her eyes full of concern. “Why did you want to talk to me in private? Has something been said again? You really must let me go to Hafur this time. He can talk to them, well I say talk to them but what I really mean is throw his weight around, and knock a few heads together. He’s good at that.”

“No, I—”

“Honestly, you don’t have to deal with this alone. It’s not fair. What have they said this time? Was it one of ours? I’ll talk to them, or I’ll speak to Uncle Dain and he can speak with them if you prefer. But really Hafur is probably the best dwarf for the job. They listen to him more than—”

Fili placed a hand on her arm and she stopped. “No, it’s not that, and even if it were, it’s only words.” Jealousy. That’s what Amad and Thorin had called it when he first told them about it. Just youngsters being spiteful and probing for a weak spot. Ignore them and they will stop. Dismissed, and feeling like a weak, spineless creature for telling them, Fili hadn’t bothered speaking to either of them about it ever since. He certainly hadn’t bothered to tell them that it wasn’t only youngsters.

“Words can hurt too.”

“I know. Thank you.” Fili took a deep breath. “A letter arrived today.” He knew he’d made the right decision when her face lit up. His heart lifted.

“From Kili?” Hafdis grabbed his hand in both of hers and released it again quickly. Her face flamed red. “Really? But that's wonderful! Can I see it? Oh, ignore me. It’s private. Of course it’s private. I’m just so excited for you. You must be so relieved.”

Fili nodded, his hand hovering over the letter tucked away inside his tunic. Before he could think about it too much he pulled it from his pocket and handed it over.

She tore through it, lifting her head to exclaim at him and smile and Fili felt a little rush inside. “Oh, you are to be an uncle?”

He nodded, completely unable to stop himself from grinning at her like a fool, as she stared back at him. Her eyes wide and full of happiness. This was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. Not hidden, silent tears, or hurtful indifference.

“This is wonderful news.” She turned the paper over. “When is this from? And where?”

There was no date on the letter. From the state of the script, the scrawled apologies and the multiple crossings out, Fili guessed that it had been written the very moment Kili arrived in the Shire. His brother hadn’t thought to include a date, and obviously it had been written and sent too quickly for Ness to add even so much as a word or two of her own. Or Bilbo for that matter.

Hafdis was waiting for a response. Thorin had explicitly forbade him from telling anyone about his brother’s whereabouts, so Fili could only shrug. Sharing the letter with her was probably disobedience enough for one day. “I don’t know,” he lied, and tried not to feel guilty. “But he’s alive and well.” A horrible thought occurred to him. “Or at least he was when—”

“Don’t.” Hafdis tapped his knee smartly. “Don’t. He’s safe and you are to be an uncle. Perhaps if all has gone well you already are.”

That was true. Any letter would have taken months to reach him from the Shire and Kili’s writing was short on any detail, so perhaps he was already an uncle. He hoped so. A much regretted conversation with Ness rushed back to him and his face flushed. It had been not long after they first arrived in Erebor. Preoccupied with worries about Azog, and his uncle’s state of mind, the thoughtless words had slipped out. Ness stopped beside him mid stride and gripped his forearm, her face stricken.

“I'd thought that too.” She touched her belly with her fingertips, unconsciously Fili felt, and he was horrified. Desperately he wished the words back but it was too late and the damage was done. With tears in her eyes she looked up at him and whispered, “I'd thought too that it was the wrong time. Maybe it knew deep down I didn't want it.”

“No.” He grabbed at her hands and shook his head urgently. “No, Ness.”

“I was so scared. Everything was moving too fast and I wasn't ready. But I did want it, so much. I knew as soon as—"

He gathered her up in his arms and her body shook against him. It was as if a dam had burst. The occasional word made its way to him through the torrent of heartbroken sobs, and he could do absolutely nothing for her. Nothing but stroke her hair and whisper useless platitudes, that he wasn’t even sure she heard, as he watched the passageway and prayed like he’d never prayed before for Kili to appear.

Ness thanked him afterward, as she wiped her eyes and smiled bravely. Generously she’d called him a good friend and leant into him to kiss his cheek. He'd felt like a fraud.

Fili’s heart raced. He needed to go, immediately. Take the fastest pony he could find and ride for the Shire, and make sure all was well.

Hafdis tapped his knee again, harder this time, as if she knew his thoughts. “No. Look at me. This is what you have always wanted. Ever since the day he left. News, and wonderful news at that.” She handed him the letter. “Now you can begin to get on with your own life.”

* * *

  
“You’re a fool.” Gimli drained his wine glass and looked around for the bottle. “You barely know her.”

“She’s our friend.”

Gimli wasn’t so sure. He refilled his glass and, after a moment’s thought, leant across and refilled Fili’s too. His cousin had obviously drank more than enough, since he was making even more foolish decisions than usual, but it might help him sleep. And therefore help Gimli sleep. A few hours without being kicked or jolted awake would be bliss. Gimli stifled a yawn with his hand. Surely a full night’s sleep wasn’t too much to ask? How in Durin's name had Kili ever put up with it all those years? “You’ve known her less than a year, Fili. She’s Dain’s niece. Have you not stopped to consider that she could be gathering information for her uncle?”

Fili snorted and smoothed the letter out on his knee. Gimli watched as Fili’s fingers brushed gently over the parchment, seemingly unable to stop himself from touching it.

“You’ll wear a hole in that before the night’s out at this rate. And you have to at least concede that it’s a possibility. Thorin told you—”

“Thorin sees threats where there are none. He’s paranoid and suspicious.”

“Fili!” Gimli nearly spat out his wine. That was a little too close to treason for his liking. No matter the thickness of the walls surrounding them. He glanced worriedly at the open window. “You cannot—”

“He told me not to speak of Kili. To not even think of him.” Fili’s eyes were sharp, angry, and suddenly very sober. “He tells me that it will help me forget, but I will not forget my brother. And you are exactly the same. You won’t talk to me about him. Amad won’t talk to me about him. No-one apart from Bard and Legolas will talk to me about him and they’re not dwarves, they don’t understand. But Hafdis, she listens and she doesn’t tell me to be quiet. She doesn't ask me any questions. She doesn't want anything more from me than I am willing to give. She was there when I needed someone to talk to.”

That hurt. Gimli longed to talk about Kili too. As they had waited for news back home in the Blue Mountains not a day went by but Gimli anxiously thought of his cousins. With no siblings of his own they were his brothers in all but name, and Kili his closest friend in the world. Gimli didn’t even mind so much that the same wasn’t true in reverse. He was happy with his lot until the day he waved them off at the gates. Then the rest of the Company and his adad left and it all felt very real. They were in the forefront of his mind from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning until he closed them at night. They even followed him into his dreams. Them and their dragon. Desperate for peace Gimli even took up praying, just in case. Figuring that if it didn’t do any good it likely wouldn’t do any harm.

Sometimes he imagined that Dis assigned him to her guard for no other reason than she was tired of watching him trail about the settlement with a long face.

But they couldn’t live in the past. It wasn’t healthy. Oin said so, and it made sense. It was apparent to all that it did Fili no favours to wallow, and Gimli was more than a little annoyed that Hafdis and Hafur were so willing to indulge his cousin. Hafdis even laughed at him when Gimli asked her nicely to put a stop to it. As if she knew better than a dwarf who’d been a medic long before Gimli was even born.

Fili must have seen something in his face for he sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “We’ve been through this before, Gimli. Many times. They didn’t approach me. I asked Hafur for a spar. I approached him. He didn’t know anything about me.”

It was Gimli’s turn to snort. “I never thought you were so naive. Everyone knows about you and everyone has been trying to get close to you to satisfy their curiosity. Why do you think they would be the exception?”

“He didn’t care. He only wanted to fight me. Hafur isn’t interested in foolish gossip.”

Gimli didn’t believe that for a moment. The interest in Kili hadn’t waned. If anything it had grown as time went on. Rumour layered upon rumour swirled about the mountain with everyone hungry for any morsel of truth about the disgraced youngest Durin prince. No matter how small or seemingly insignificant. Gimli hadn’t so much as put his hand in his pocket to buy a mug of ale since he first rode in through Erebor’s gates. Everyone wanted to be his friend, and every budding friendship ended abruptly when it became clear that the motivation behind it was to wheedle out information. It was tiring, to be constantly on his guard against a slip of the tongue.

Fili was spared the worst of it, in Gimli’s opinion. Protected by his status and his unwillingness to engage with anyone outside the Company for a single moment longer than he needed to. He had let no-one close.

Until the day he did.

Gimli had hurried to the training hall, late and almost at a run, and found Fili already engaged in a bout. Not with Dwalin as Gimli expected, but instead with the dark-haired dwarf from the Iron Hills. The one who always seemed to train at the same time Fili and Gimli did. Stood in the high archway, shocked to his very core and with his mouth hanging open, Gimli watched the practice blades flash in the torchlight. The movement of dark and golden hair as the pair lunged and clashed flung him back through time, and halfway across Middle-earth, to a dusty training yard, high above the snowline in the Blue Mountains. Back to memories of hours spent sat atop an upturned barrel with an axe held loosely in his hand. Hours of kicking his heels against the wood as he watched his cousins spar. Impatient for his turn to be knocked on his backside by one or the other of them.

He watched Fili continue to stroke calloused fingers gently over his precious letter. It was, in a way, nice to not be relied upon so heavily by his cousin. Hafur and Hafdis did take some of the pressure off and that allowed Gimli to do other things. Like spend time with his actual family. So perhaps it was only that his nose was a little out of joint. Perhaps.

“He isn’t.” Fili insisted quietly. Gimli wasn’t sure whether Fili was trying to convince himself or Gimli. “He only wants to know about dragons and battles, and to hit me. Mainly to hit me.”

“I’m only telling you to be a little cautious, that’s all. I’m not saying you can’t make friends.” Fili looked mutinous and Gimli wondered briefly when he had become the wiser, sensible one. He pushed on. “You can make friends and you should. I want you to. But just because your uncle is—” Gimli stopped himself in time. The king. That was the only way that sentence should ever end. The king is the king, and treason is treason. And family ties would be no protection should Thorin’s suspicion ever fall on them. As Fili knew, better than anyone. Gimli gathered himself and continued. “I’m just saying that your uncle may have a point. You don’t know for sure what folks motives are. Maybe they have none. Maybe.”

Fili sighed heavily. “I didn’t tell her anything. The letter doesn’t say where they are. Kili knew not to write any detail. He’s not a fool. The only question she asked was if Bilbo was the halfling she had heard about. The one who talked to Smaug.”

Gimli held out his hand and Fili passed the letter over. He skimmed through it again. Kili’s script was even worse than he remembered. Gimli squinted at the words. It was true that the letter didn’t say the Shire outright, but then it didn’t need to. Just mentioning the halfling was enough to lay a trail all the way from Erebor to the hobbit’s comfortable door. Everyone with any wits about them at all knew that halflings didn’t stray far from their soft, grassy lands. Even if this Bilbo seemed a little unusual for his kind.

“I’m worried.” Fili lifted his eyes from his wine. “What if—”

“No.”

“But what if she—”

“No. You need to let this go. You have your letter. He’s fine. More than fine. You have to let him go and get on with your own life.”

Fili’s eyes glittered as he looked into the fire. “I was with Ori a few days ago and I happened across a message from the Halls. The settlement is failing, it’s barely supporting itself. Madduc is asking Thorin for yet more gold.”

“You shouldn’t be looking through—”

“I should know this. I shouldn’t have to look. Thorin calls me his heir but it’s a pretty title only. He treats me like I’m barely more use to him than a dwarfling or...or a letter-opener. I have no real role here. You know that as well as I. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Thorin needs someone in Ered Luin to act for him. Either to close the settlement, or make it profitable.” Fili turned his eyes back to Gimli. Hope shining brightly in them.

“He won’t send you, Fili.”

“I’m the only sensible choice. It’s my chance to prove myself. Madduc can’t turn it around, even with more handouts of gold. The Durin connection is the only thing that will do it. Younger blood. I’ve thought it through and I’m certain with a little work I can persuade him.”

Gimli sighed. He could see exactly how this would end. Fili would beg, Thorin would refuse, and Gimli would be left to pick up the broken pieces and start again. He stared down at the letter in his hands and wished for a moment it had been lost somewhere. Left behind in a tavern by a merchant, and forgotten. Recently Gimli had dared to hope that his heartbroken cousin was, at long last, making some progress. Slowly but surely dragging himself out from under the shadow of his grief. They’d come so far since those first weeks.

When he first arrived in Erebor Gimli first and foremost had longed to spend some time with his adad. But, before he even fully emptied his pack, Dis tracked him down to his family’s rooms and begged him to please keep a watch on Fili. She was worried and needed someone close. Someone Fili trusted. Gimli couldn’t possibly refuse. He repacked his things at once and moved to Fili’s rooms, and he watched. He was still watching.

At least they wouldn’t have the braids argument this time. That was something to be grateful for. It had taken days. Days where Gimli pleaded desperately with his cousin to let him undo the matted and fraying braids Kili put in Fili’s hair the morning he left Erebor. Initially the refusals were silent. Simply a turn of a shoulder. Then it escalated to rumbles and growls, before finally Fili stood, with the speed Gimli had foolishly forgotten about. The roar for Gimli to get out, and the punch hard enough to hurt, was a surprise.

Somewhere between shocked and relieved Gimli stood outside in the passageway and dabbed at his bloody nose with shaking fingers. He told himself that at least it showed his cousin had a little spirit left.

He returned to the chamber with Thorin, Dis and Dwalin, and after a short, fierce battle the braids had come out.

He’d been thrown out several times since. Twice bodily. Only Gimli’s promise to Dis kept him going back. But, family or not, there were limits and sometimes Gimli thought he might be fast approaching his. He smiled at Fili and shook his head, making sure to keep his voice gentle. “Be sensible. Thorin won’t send you. You are the heir, the dragon-slayer—”

“Don’t call me that. I’ve told you before.”

It was a growl. A warning that Gimli knew well enough by now. He quickly held up in his hands in a gesture of peace.

Fili drained his glass and set it on the flagstones. Heavily enough that Gimli was surprised it didn’t shatter. His cousin stood and looked down at him with distaste, his eyes hard and unfriendly. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter this time! I'm attempting to relearn everything I have forgotten about grammar so if you spot anything please let me know and I will add it to my list. Or if I'm making it worse to read I'd love to hear that too!
> 
> This is the very first time I've written from Gimli's pov. He frightens me because he's such a big character in Lord of the Rings. Was it ok? Not ok? 
> 
> As always, any feedback greatly appreciated, including concrit if you fancy giving any. I'm having a great time writing this story and would love to know your thoughts.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Wishing you a Happy New Year!


	6. The river crossing at Tharbad

Dis shifted the pile of material carefully and pulled the parchment back toward her. “Actually, perhaps something like this would be better?” She ran a finger over the neckline to blur the charcoal and sketched over it.

“Oh, that would be nice.” Sigrid craned over her shoulder. “I thought I had to keep it higher.”

“Nonsense, you’ve a fine figure, and if you can’t show it off on your wedding day then when can you?” Dis spun the parchment and pushed it across the table. “Molir, Tilda, what do you think?”

Molir glared at her and cast a quick glance toward the door at the far end of the kitchen. Obviously full of regret with his choice to stay inside and not step out for a smoke with Fili, Bard and Legolas. Dis raised her eyebrows at him.

“Very pretty,” he muttered. “But then she could get married in a blanket and look very pretty anyway.” He flushed to his ears as Sigrid thanked him.

“Will you draw one for me too, Dis?” Tilda bounced on the bench beside Molir. “I like this one. We could have the same, Sigrid.”

“You can’t have the same. You’re far too young. But you can have similar, if your sister is happy with it. Who will help you with it, Sigrid?”

Sigrid looked at Dis hopefully. “My da wants to help, but his sewing is...very sturdy.”

Dis nodded. She’d seen Bard’s sewing. It reminded her of Thorin’s. Good for making sure a waterskin didn’t come apart in the next fifty years, but definitely not suitable for the fine work of a wedding dress. Certainly not the visible parts.

Sigrid dropped her eyes to the table and plucked at the fabric. “So I thought I might give him an easy bit. And Tilda and Bain will help. I thought maybe…”

The girl twisted her hands together. The unasked question written across her young face.

“I can help you. If you wish.”

Sigrid’s face lit up with gratitude and she flung her arms around Dis with a whisper of thanks. Dis returned the embrace and patted the overwrought girl gently on the back. Tilda and Molir grinned at her from across the table and Dis couldn’t help but smile back. A glow warming her chest. Erebor was nothing if not full of surprises. If anyone had told her two years ago that she would have been asked to step into the role that rightly belonged to a human girl’s mother, she would have laughed long and loud in disbelief. Yet, here she was.

The back door swung open and Bard entered, followed by Fili and the elf. Bard grinned across. “She asked you then?”

“I offered.” Dis patted Sigrid gently on the back and the girl slowly released her, settling back onto the bench with damp eyes and taking a firm grip on Dis’s hand. “I’d be honoured to help.”

She smiled at Sigrid and reached across to swipe the tears from the girl’s cheeks. It was a terrible thing, to lose your amad so young. She and Bard had spoken about it before, in low voices over mugs of tea or glasses of fine elven wine. The man’s own grief almost a mirror image of her own. Although Dis considered herself lucky in comparison. Thorin and Balin had helped her with her own wedding dress, taking the places of family lost to the mountain and on their long journey to the Ered Luin. Thorin determined to be useful and assigned to the hidden pieces. She smiled at the memory of her brother hunched over his task in a chair by the fire. His muttered curses drifting across the small house as he poked more holes in himself than in the fabric, whilst she and Balin smiled and pieced together her elaborate gown.

And later, when her world caved in all over again, she had no shortage of help with her boys. There had been no question that she would have been left to raise them alone. Even when she tried to push them all away they refused to listen. Determined to tempt her with food and getting on her nerves as they tidied and constantly fussed around her. Insistent that they take Fili here and there with them to give her a break, when all she wanted was to curl up in her bed and hold her little boy and sleep and forget. She had thought it suffocating at the time. When Kili arrived, looking more Durin than anything else, she simply fell apart. She had been glad of them then. When she could barely summon the energy to feed her new son, never mind cook and clean. Thorin, the one who at last pulled her from her bed. The one who washed her hair, put in her braids and stood right by her shoulder as he pushed her back into the outside world.

It had been a dark time. She didn't like to remember it, and it worried her that she saw echoes of her bad blood in Fili. Thorin again the one left to pick up the pieces, whilst she stood uselessly by and watched.

Grief was a terrible path, but company made it infinitely more bearable. Now Dis knew that their dwarven way, with all its interfering, was preferable to the mannish one. To hear Bard tell it, once the bodies were in the ground he had been left very much to his own devices. He had explained it away whilst she stared at him in disbelief. The whole of Laketown grief stricken, they had all lost loved ones to the sickness, and he was not the only one who struggled. People had to look to their own. And by the time the sickness passed barely a single family had not suffered through loss, and the town was starving. There was no sympathy left to spare, and no time to grieve together. People needed fed and life had to go on.

Bard flopped onto the bench and ruffled Tilda’s hair. “I can’t tell you what a relief that is, Dis. Bain has been practising his sewing but he’s fairly useless. And he’s the best out of the three of us, isn’t that right, Tilda?”

The elf watched her. Dis stared back at him as he took his seat at the bench and pulled the parchment toward him. His expression inscrutable, like all his kind, as he dropped his eyes and appeared to study her drawing closely. The bench dipped as Fili climbed in beside her. He pressed a kiss into her hair and she leaned into his shoulder. He smelled of pipesmoke and the cool evening air.

“Where is Bain anyway?” Fili asked. “He does know we’re waiting on him?”

“Are you hungry again, Fili? Or just anxious to get back to the mountain?” Bard laughed and sniffed the air. “He’s with Garett, they won’t be long. Tilda, do you want to check your apple pie? I can smell it’s nearly ready.”

Fili laughed and Dis stole a glance at him. He looked genuinely happy, which was a relief. She hadn’t been sure whether it was wise to still attend their dinner with Bard, not after Fili’s clash with Thorin about Madduc. But the outing seemed to have done him good, although perhaps he was a bit tight around the eyes. But then that was to be expected. He was bound to be disappointed.

She still found it odd how his spirits never failed to lift outside the mountain. And even more odd how her own heart always lightened once they were outside the long shadow of the gates. Like a weight had been lifted from her. It was unsettling, but then she supposed it was not entirely unexpected either. The mountain still full of grief and memory, the stones soaked with it. It would take time to replace all the sadness with happy memories. Which reminded her, she needed to force Thorin outside the gates. She still wasn’t convinced about the gold sickness but best to take it seriously, just in case.

“I’ll put this away.” Sigrid began to gather up the fabric. She smiled at the elf and gently tugged the parchment from his hands. “I wouldn’t want pudding spilt all over it.”

“That was once.” The elf shook a finger accusingly at Fili. “Once. Because someone threw an apple at me.” He shot a sideways glance at Molir. “I think we all know that I am far from the messiest dinner guest at this table.”

“Excuse me?” Molir looked up from filling his pipe.

“I’m just saying that some of us can use a knife and fork, rather than our fingers.”

“It saves time.” Molir turned to her. “And washing up. This is an insult, Dis.”

“Not to me.” Dis stood to help Sigrid. Perhaps if things went well this wedding dress wouldn’t be the last one she would be asked to help with. She smiled at her son. Perhaps he was anxious to get back to the mountain to see the girl. She hoped so.

* * *

Gimli pushed his chair out.

“Where are you off to?” asked Gloin.

“Bit tired, adad.” Gimli smiled at them. It looked forced. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dis.”

Dis nodded to him and watched as he made his way toward the doors. Beside her Fili drained his tankard and scraped his own chair out. For a moment Dis hoped he intended to follow his cousin, but instead he excused himself and walked in the opposite direction. Down the steps from the high table and through the crowd toward the group of Iron Hills dwarves gathered by the musicians.

She frowned as Hafur pulled Fili into the group with a hearty back slapping embrace. It did her heart good to watch the growing friendship between her son and the younger Iron Hills dwarves. It was important that the dwarves within the mountain were as one, rather than split into different tribes and factions. Thorin couldn’t be expected to forge bonds alone. But the fall out with Gimli concerned her. Although, he and Fili had spent every moment together so it was understandable that they would clash from time to time.

Still, it was a disappointment that Fili did not seem the least bit inclined to mend any bridges. Not just because it meant that she had lost what little information Gimli chose to pass on about her son’s state of mind. And she was disappointed that neither Hafur or Hafdis seemed to be interested in extending Gimli a hand of friendship. She once thought the four of them inseparable. It wasn’t good for Gimli to have only Ori for company of his own age. And even that wasn't working out too well. With her encouragement Ori had asked Gimli to help him in the library but, although Gimli was polite and tried his best, he was too like Kili. A warrior and not a scribe. Shelves of dusty books held no interest for him, and for some reason he didn’t seem capable of forming any lasting friendship with any dwarf outside the Company

Down the table Gloin shook his head and murmured with his wife and Oin. Dis smiled sympathetically when their eyes met. So far she had managed to restrain herself and remain out of it, but if the rift went on any longer she would have no choice but to knock their heads together. They were blood, after all. And Gimli’s long face as he trailed miserably about after her on her royal duties was beginning to wear on her.

She turned her eyes back to her son. Half hidden by the tightly packed crowd she couldn’t see his face, but the group around him were talking animatedly. She smiled as Hafdis joined them and watched the girl elbow her way in next to Fili. The green and gold gown a fetching colour on her. Dis leaned forward as Fili and the girl spoke, their heads close together.

“Dis.” Balin patted her arm. “What do you think?”

Dis tore her eyes away from Fili and smiled at Balin. “Sorry, what do I think about what?”

Thorin grasped her hand under the table. Her rings bit into her skin as he pressed her fingers together tightly and jerked his head in the direction of the crowd. She followed his gaze in time to see Hafur push Hafdis, followed by Fili, out into the dancers.

Dain raised an eyebrow at them questioningly and turned to look over his shoulder. “Oh. Well, would you look at that.” He shuffled his chair around to see better, and around them the table conversations faltered and lapsed into silence.

Even from this distance Dis could see the high colour in the girl’s cheeks, and although his back was to them she imagined her son’s wasn’t much different. Barely daring to breathe she watched as the pair stepped a little closer and Fili bowed stiffly and held out a hand. Dain, Thorin and her grinned at each other like fools as the youngsters awkwardly positioned themselves and Fili began to move Hafdis through the other dancers. She couldn’t make out what he signed to Hafur behind the girl’s back, but whatever it was made Hafur and his kin laugh uproariously. The boys all nudging and slapping each other's shoulders, obviously very pleased with themselves.

“He could do with holding her a little closer,” Thorin said quietly. “I’ve seen less space between him and you when the pair of you are dancing.”

Dain grunted. “Let the boy be. It’s a start, isn’t it? And Durin knows it’s taken him long enough to get this far.” He pointed a finger across the table and waved it between her and Thorin. “You should both be out there too. Neither of you are too old yet. I’ve plenty of—”

“Hush.” Dis breathed, not wanting to break the spell. Her son was dancing, and as he turned the girl in his arms she could see he was smiling. Her heart swelled with happiness.

* * *

Hafur was late.

Fili drummed his heels against the bench and looked out across the training hall. One of the targets was free but he really needed to hit something. Someone. Although, perhaps if he threw enough knives it would take the edge off. Until Hafur arrived.

He stood and made his way across the hall toward the range, being sure to give the dwarves already in sparring matches, and their spectators, plenty of space. His eyes swept over the groups as he assessed them. There would be plenty awaiting their turn to spar, and he could ask anyone really. It wasn’t likely they would refuse the chance to try and best their Crown Prince, but that would mean conversation and looks and he wasn’t quite that desperate yet. It was likely Hafur would arrive any moment if he were patient. Or maybe even Hafdis. A spar with her wouldn’t be the bout he needed to draw the tension from his body, but it might distract his mind. Which would do fine.

He pulled a knife from his belt and spun it through his fingers as he walked. He missed Gimli. He never thought he would. He told himself enough times since their fight that he didn’t. That it was a relief to finally breathe freely, after being suffocated for so long. That it was a relief to finally have his own space. Free from Gimli constantly at his heels, as close to him as his own shadow. Following him everywhere. But, aside from the quest for Erebor, he had never gone as long as a week without speaking to his cousin. He felt guilty. He imagined Kili would have been disappointed. More than disappointed. Kili would have mediated a truce, or forced one, well before it reached this point. Fili rubbed at his chest before he remembered the many eyes in the training hall and pulled his hand back to his side. The familiar ache when he thought of his brother, a physical pain. Perhaps, as Thorin and Amad said, someday it would get easier. Perhaps someday years from now it would hurt less. Like a half forgotten wound that only ached in bad weather. He couldn’t imagine it.

Gloin had collared him earlier. Bent over his work, and with the noise of the busy forges in his ears, Fili hadn’t realised he had company until Gloin slammed his hands onto his workbench. Red faced with temper Gloin shook a big finger in his face and told Fili, in no uncertain terms, that it was all his fault that Gimli was a shadow of his usual merry self.

Another dwarf was moving toward the free target, but they stepped back as Fili approached. He nodded his thanks.

He really wasn’t sure who needed to apologise, and he’d politely told Gloin so. As he attempted to explain, Gloin cut him off with a raised hand and warned him that he better hurry himself up and sort it out. Whatever consequences Gloin felt he was threatening Fili with wasn’t clear. Likely it involved Thorin, or possibly even some sort of Company intervention. Satisfied that his message was delivered, Gloin turned and stormed away and Fili was left standing in the forges, with his face on fire like he was a little dwarfling.

It was true that he and Gimli had quarrelled badly. But there was fault on both sides and Fili was absolutely certain, as he looked back with a clear head, that Gimli started it. He had finished it though. But at least he managed to direct his anger at the wall of his chamber instead of Gimli. The punch hard enough to break his own knuckles open. Not sure that he would be able to restrain himself a second time Fili had stormed out, with a roar that Gimli and all his belongings better be gone before he returned from the stables.

Fili flexed his fingers around the hilt of his throwing knife, and assessed the pull from the healing skin across his knuckles. It was fine. He shifted his stance.

Instead of packing his things, like he’d been clearly told to do, Gimli followed him out of the chamber. Like the fool he was, he unwisely ran after Fili and caught at his arm before he reached the end of the passageway. There had been an exchange of blows and loud, angry words. Loud enough to draw the attention of Thorin’s guards. Not that the curious stares as the guards peeped around the corner stopped either of them.

That had been badly done.

The parting shot that Fili didn’t need a lapdog, and especially not one that dribbled and snored, had perhaps taken things too far. That too had been badly done, and reflected poorly on him. So it was possible Gloin was right and some sort of apology was due. And Fili was the elder after all. He should at least give some more thought to making the first move.

The knife struck the target, embarrassingly off centre. Fili glared at it and pulled another from his belt.

Amad had been unimpressed when word reached her. Without so much as a knock she stormed into Fili’s chamber where she vehemently denied that Gimli was planted by her as either bodyguard, or spy. A friend and a beloved cousin was all Gimli had ever been, she claimed. Her hands spread wide and her blue eyes all innocence. Fili nodded and agreed with her. He apologised for ever thinking otherwise and watched as she realised that, since Gimli had not been a bodyguard, Fili now had no bodyguard.

He was glad. He needed none.

The second knife was off centre too.

Fili swore.

“My prince.”

Fili turned to the Iron Hills dwarf who bowed low to him. He recognised the face but couldn't think of the name. The dwarf straightened with a wide smile.

“Hafur sent me with a message. He’s held up with Lord Dain. Sends his apologies.” The youngster must have sensed his disappointment. “But I can spar with you if you like? I’m not as good as Hafur, but my brothers say I can hold my own.”

Fili looked him up and down. It would hardly be a fair fight and he would have to hold back. That wouldn’t be very satisfying, but perhaps better than nothing. “What age are you, lad?”

“Ninety.”

Fili blinked. He’d been certain that he was the older. That made things entirely different. His mood lifted. They could have a proper spar. He nodded and smiled at the dwarf, his decision made. “Come on then. Let’s see how you do.”

The lad — not lad, dwarf — was fast. A little clumsy, but quick enough on his feet. After their first clash they circled each other and Fili awaited his opening.

Soon enough the dwarf lunged and Fili spun away, his counterstrike blocked but that didn’t matter. He used his momentum to sweep the other’s legs from under him. His sword to the dwarf’s throat before he fully hit the flagstones.

“Yield.” The dwarf grinned up at him and Fili helped him to his feet. “Again?”

Fili nodded and shook out his shoulders. He bounced a little on his toes as he waited for the dwarf to take a drink of water and ready himself.

Several more bouts left him much more relaxed. Fili was contemplating whether it might be appropriate as a thanks to allow the dwarf come closer to a win, when he smiled and spoke. “You seem to be taking things very well, Prince Fili.”

Fili frowned. He didn't want conversation. Especially not if, as he expected, his opponent intended to fish for information under the guise of friendship. It was a disappointment. The dwarf made a move and Fili knocked the clumsy strike away easily, and a lot harder than strictly necessary.

“Your brother, I mean, I know you are estranged but still…” He lunged and Fili slipped out of range. He was a fool to have accepted the offer of a bout. He should have known, and it was an annoyance to have his suspicions confirmed. Again. Fili stepped in to deliver the blow that he knew would knock the dwarf to the floor. All thoughts of thanking the dwarf forgotten. He'd finish it quickly, hunt down Gimli, and sort things out.

“I know even if I had a bad falling out with one of my brothers I’d still mourn him.”

The word landed like a blow to the chest. Fili stopped mid-strike and stared at the dwarf. His heart pounding loud in his ears.

The dwarf levelled his sword at Fili’s throat. “I mean, you’re here, behaving perfectly normally. I’d be in pieces in your circumstances. I always heard you two were close. I heard you shared everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Fili swallowed hard and found his voice. He pushed the blade of the practice sword away with his finger and stepped closer. “Tell me.”

The dwarf tilted his head and looked at him curiously.

“Tell me.”

A look of dawning horror came over the dwarf’s face. He glanced side to side quickly and licked his lips as he lowered his voice. “You truly don’t know? I’m—”

They were face to face. The dwarf tried to take a step back and Fili dropped his own sword to grab at his arm. “Please, whatever it is. You must tell me.”

The dwarf glanced around again, as if looking for support. Over the thunder of his heart Fili was aware of the noise level in the hall dropping around them. He gave the dwarf a little shake and frightened eyes snapped back to his.

“There was an elvish caravan, on the North-South road. The river crossing at Tharbad. You really haven’t heard?”

Fili shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“The river was in flood. You know how we had all that rain last month? They were trapped against it. A pack of orcs. I’m so sorry.” The dwarf caught Fili’s arm. “You should maybe sit down, my prince. No? You’ve gone very pale. Well, if you’re sure. I only heard yesterday, but the whole mountain is talking about it. I thought you knew.”

It couldn’t be true. Kili was in the Shire. Safe. With Bilbo and Ness. With the child. “It’s not true.” His thoughts were a tangle. “My brother. He wouldn’t be—“

“They were coming this direction apparently. So the merchant said. The one who saw them in the inn a few days previous. He’d thought it strange that a dwarf was travelling in the company of elves. But then your brother got on well with the elves, didn’t he? Bit like yourself in that way, I suppose.”

Did Thorin know? His uncle had looked strained at their morning meeting, but he’d waved away Fili’s concern with a smile. Claimed another of his headaches and sent Fili with Balin to inspect the progress in one of the mines. Fili searched the dwarf’s eyes for the lie and found nothing but sympathy.

“Always dangerous round those parts, or so they say. I suppose they thought there was enough of them. But I don’t think I should tell you any more, I’ve said enough. You should really hear this from family.”

Fili shook his head. Amad had been gone before breakfast. Thorin said she was in Dale. That must be a lie. He needed to go to her.

“I suppose in your situation I’d want to know too. Lean on me, Prince Fili. That’s it. I’ll tell you what I heard. It was an unusually large pack, that’s what they say. Come down from the mountains. Those really big brutes. We only get the smaller orcs up in the Iron Hills, but I think you’ve met some of the big ones, haven’t you? I suppose they were watching the river crossing and waiting for an opportunity. They say...well...I probably don't need to go into all the detail. I imagine you know as well as I do what those foul creatures do to soft folk. But I did hear that the girl lasted longer than you’d have expected she would. So that's maybe some comfort. A little fighter, that’s what I heard.”

Ness. Fili thought he might be sick. He released the dwarf and caught a hold of him again, no longer sure his legs were able to support him. The flagstones rippled under his boots as he stared at them and fought down the nausea, blinking hard. He had to know. He forced the words out, in a broken whisper that he barely recognised as his own voice. “My brother?”

“Well, I heard he also lasted longer than you would expect. You’re built tough, you Durins. I’ll give you that much.”

Fili lifted his eyes.

The dwarf grinned. “Heard he enjoyed it a bit more than you’d expect too. Barely had to hold him down, or so they tell me. Heard they all got a—”


	7. Do you know what you’ve done?

They dumped him into a chair. Which was good, as Fili wasn’t entirely sure he could stand. He leant his elbows on the table and carefully rested his aching head in his hands. That seemed to stop the world spinning and tilting quite so violently. Planting his feet firmly against the stone he willed himself not to be sick.

From across the chamber drifted raised voices. Fili ran his tongue around his teeth and tasted blood, but thankfully all of them seemed to still be there. There seemed to be something very wrong with his hearing too, although it was a little better now his eyes were shut. He could make out Thorin and Dwalin's voices, but they were talking far too quickly and their words blurred together. Although he kept hearing his name, so likely he should at least attempt to pay attention.

A hand touched his shoulder gently and he forced his eyes open. Hafur knelt beside him. 

“Thorin has told me to go,” Hafur whispered. His eyes wide with concern. “But if you need me to stay, I will. I’ll tell him I won’t leave you.”

Fili shook his head and sat back. There was no sense in Hafur getting himself into trouble too. The world spun and he waited to speak until it righted again. “Thank you.”

Hafur smiled sadly and pressed their foreheads together. “You are a fool, my brother. I will wait for you outside.”

The door flew open and Amad raced across to them in a whirl of silks and autumn air. Fili allowed himself a small sigh of relief at the sight of the rain on her cloak and her mud spattered boots, for she had obviously been in Dale after all. Some of the tension left his shoulders as he studied her face and found nothing there but concern for him. No more grief than usual in the lines of her face. Hafur pushed himself up to standing and, with a final gentle squeeze of Fili’s shoulder and a low murmur of support that Fili didn’t quite catch, he was gone. Fili heard Thorin thank Hafur as Amad touched his face and drew his eyes to hers.

“Oh, Fili,” she whispered, “what have you done?” She called across the room. “Thorin, where’s Oin?”

“With the boy your boy half killed.”

Fili wasn’t sure when Dain had arrived, but the dwarf lord’s voice was clipped and measured, and had none of his usual bluster. That meant he was absolutely furious.

“What?” said Amad. She stood. “Will someone explain to me what is going on? There was hardly anyone on the gate when I arrived.”

Dain ignored her. “Thorin, I need you down there and beside me. Now. Before we end up with more in the hands of the medics.”

It was too hard to sit upright, and he didn’t want to see his uncle’s face. Fili rested his head back on his hands.

“Fine,” Thorin growled. “Dwalin, with me. Dis, he stays right here until I get back. Neither of you are to leave this room. Do not disobey me”

“Tell me what—” Amad made a frustrated noise as Thorin slammed the door closed behind him. Her hand lightly touched Fili’s hair and she lowered her voice. “Where does it hurt, my son?”

* * *

Fili was trying to explain that he needed to close his eyes for just a few moments when Thorin slammed his way back into the room. His uncle swept around the table and scraped a chair out before dropping down into it.

“How badly is he hurt?”

“I think Oin needs to take a look at him,” said Molir. “I don’t like the sound of his breathing and he’s barely able to speak. I’m not sure if he can stand, or even if he should. He’s had a bad beating, Thorin.”

Amad pinched him hard. “Stay awake, my son.”

Thorin took a hold of his chin and tilted his head back, and none too gently. Fili tried to focus on his uncle's face as a jolt of pain shot down his spine.

“Do you know what you’ve done? Fili. Look at me properly. Do you have the slightest idea the damage you have done? There is a boy in the healing chambers who may never see his amad again. What happened?”

“He said that—”

“Words? This is over words?”

“But he—”

“The place was in an uproar when Hafur and I arrived,” said Dwalin from somewhere behind them. His voice low and angry. “I think if it hadn’t been for that lad I mightn’t have got you out in one piece, Fili. He fought through his own folk to stand over you. You owe him your thanks, and maybe even your life.”

Fili stared at Thorin and willed him to understand. “But he said—”

“You fool. You stupid, dangerous, little fool.” Thorin released him. “How many times have I told you that words cannot hurt you?”

This was pointless. Thorin wouldn't listen. He never listened. Fili pushed quickly himself to his feet and the chair fell to the floor with a crash. A heavy hand, Molir's he thought, or perhaps Dwalin's, landed on his shoulder and he shook it off. He did the same with Amad's gentle touch on his arm, and ignored her plea for him to stop and sit down. He needed to go. He couldn't listen to his uncle. Not now. The dwarf's words echoed in his head. His evil lies, and the mocking smile. It had to be lies because it couldn't be true, yet the lingering doubt remained. He needed to know for certain before he would be able to rest. 

“Where's Kili?”

His amad looked shocked and Fili’s blood ran cold. The doubts rushed back as she looked at him sadly and reached to touch his head. She shot a quick worried glance at Molir. “He's not here.”

“I know he's not here.” Fili pushed her hand away. “I haven't gone mad. I asked you where he is.” He turned to Thorin. “Tell me where my little brother is.”

“Fili, you should sit down.” Molir's voice was all concern and Fili growled as he reached for him. Molir backed off with his hands raised as he continued, “You've had a bad knock on the head, or a few of them, and I'm not surprised you're a bit confused. We'll get you some water and wait for Oin.”

“Tell me.” Fili fixed his eyes back on Thorin. 

His uncle sighed heavily as he passed a hand over his face. “You know where he is. He's in the Shire. With Bilbo.”

“So he’s not coming here?”

Thorin frowned. “He better not be.”

Fili sagged with relief and gripped the edge of the table. 

“Thorin, stop it.” Amad's voice was loud in his ears. “He’s confused and upset. You can’t just—”

“Sit down.” Thorin stood and lifted the fallen chair. “Right now. Or I will make you sit down. Molir, go and see if Oin can be spared to take a look at him.”

Kili was safe. Fili pushed away from the table. That was all that mattered. He need know nothing more. He cared about nothing more. 

“Where are you going?” Thorin held out a hand to stop him.

“Away.” He needed air and the chamber was hot and airless. He couldn't breathe. The door swum ahead of him as he pushed away Thorin’s hand and headed for it.

“You will not walk away from me.” Thorin caught Fili's forearm as he reached for the handle and turned him around roughly enough to knock him off balance. “You will stay here and you will listen to me, and then you will go and apologise. If anyone even wants to hear it.”

“I will not.”

“You will. You will apologise to Dain and to the boy’s brothers, that will do for a start. What is the lad’s name?” Thorin glanced over his shoulder at Dwalin.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see his face, and he wasn’t my priority.”

“Well?” Thorin looked at Fili. “What is his name?”

Fili shrugged. He tried to free his arm, but Thorin only tightened his grip in response. “Let me go.”

“You don’t even know his name?”

“I don’t need to know his name. Only that he deserved it.” His tongue felt too large in his mouth and his words sounded slurred in his own ears.

“What?”

Fili swallowed and tried again. Louder and slower, so there could be no misunderstandings. “He deserved worse. I’m only sorry I didn’t kill him.”

The blow knocked him sideways and half senseless. Fili managed to catch himself against the wall as he staggered.

“Thorin!” Amad cried out. “Don’t!”

His uncle had never struck him before. Not like that. The hurts rushed to the surface and lit a fire in his blood. All the scores that were never settled. The darkness of the cell. His brother. Ness. All the dismissals and slights and mistreatments. With his ears still ringing Fili pushed away from the wall and flung himself forward. Determined to try even if it meant he might lose. 

Thorin blocked him easily and threw him back hard against the wall. He tried again and Thorin pinned him in place with a growl. “You will listen to me.” Thorin shifted his weight to trap Fili’s legs as he tried uselessly to buck and kick his way free from his uncle’s grip. “Stop.”

He would not. He would not listen to a word of it. Why should he? When his uncle would not listen to a single word he said. Fili slowed his struggles and glanced toward the door. Let Thorin think that was his aim. It was only a few steps away but it may as well be a hundred for all the intention he had of going out of it without a fight. He glared at his uncle. “Let me go.”

“Thorin,” said Amad pleadingly, “You’re hurting him.”

Distracted his uncle glanced over his shoulder and relaxed his grip on Fili’s forearms. It was the chance he needed. Without the space to move his head didn’t connect with Thorin’s as hard as he intended, but it was enough. His own vision whited out for a moment and he blinked to clear it as Thorin swore and released him. The room around them exploded in shouts as Thorin stumbled away but Fili ignored them all. Nothing mattered more than the chance right in front of his fists. Thorin had hit him first, and he would return the favour. He put all his anger and his entire body weight behind a punch. It went wide and glanced ineffectually off Thorin’s shoulder. Fili cursed, and drew back quickly to try again before his uncle could recover his wits enough to throw him to the ground. And heard a sharp cry of pain behind him as his elbow collided with something soft.

His blood cooled instantly and Fili turned. The sudden movement blurred his vision and as he swayed and righted himself he looked at her in horror. “Amad, I’m—”

Thorin was between them before Fili could reach for her. His face twisted into a snarl as he blocked Fili’s view of his amad with her hand to her face and blood on her silks.

“Amad.” Fili tried to push Thorin aside. “It was an accident. I’m sorry. I—”

“Get out.” Thorin caught a hold of him and dragged him away. As he flung the door open Dwalin caught it before it could hit the wall.

“Thorin. Let me go with him.”

“No. I will need all of you to sort out this mess he’s created. He can go to his rooms until I am ready to deal with him.” Thorin shook him hard and Fili tore his eyes from his amad. “Did you hear me? Go to your room and stay there.”

“But he can barely stand.”

Thorin snorted. “He can stand well enough when he chooses to. Fili, get out.”

* * *

  
  
The hunting passageway that led to the upper slopes of the mountain was blocked again. They hadn’t done it very well, and he’d half expected it. But still, it was a bitter disappointment. Fili studied the rock to try and work out the way through with the least effort. In his current state he didn’t feel capable of any great feat of strength.

It felt like it took forever to get the first section cleared but every stone he shifted took him closer to escape. Fili breathed hard and braced his legs against the side of the passage as he prepared to move one of the bigger boulders. There was no other way. He gritted his teeth and pushed as hard as he could. As he slowly straightened his legs the rock behind him moved jerkily backward. Something hurt deep under his ribs but he ignored it. When he could go no further he slid down the rock and sat on the stone flagstones to catch his breath. With his eyes closed and his hand pressed tightly to his side he panted for air and waited for the stabbing sensation to ease, and for his legs to stop shaking so hard. Once the pain subsided to an acceptable level he forced himself up to his feet. His hands gripped tightly to the rock for support as he looked at his progress and nodded to himself. Nearly through. Then he could rest.

It was like a puzzle. One that was different every time. He boosted himself onto a narrow ledge and crouched as he assessed the rock suspended close above his head. He just needed fresh air on his face. Then he would feel much better, and be able to think straight.

A guard, Fili wasn’t sure which one, had managed to catch him when Thorin hurled him into the passageway outside the King’s chambers. He thought he at least said thank you, but he wasn’t sure. Despite the thickness of the doors it was likely they heard everything. Which was an additional humiliation that Fili didn’t want to think about. As the guard steadied him Fili looked for Hafur but, apart from the two guards, the corridor was silent and empty. 

The guard had kindly offered to help him to his chambers but Fili waved him off. He thought he managed to stay mostly upright as he walked away. Certain their eyes were following him. Unusually, but perhaps not unsurprisingly, he passed no other guards on the route to his room. As he crossed the junction raised voices drifted along the passageway that led towards the main communal chambers and he stopped to listen. Likely Hafur was down there somewhere. By his uncle’s side as Dain called for peace. Fili pushed the guilty thoughts away as he trailed his fingers along the wall on the way to his rooms.

Thankfully his chambers were empty and, desperate for air, he dragged the chest under the window and made it up on top of it on the second try. With the window flung open as wide as it would go Fili rested his aching head against the cool stone of the recess and tried to breathe. It hadn’t been nearly enough. He had needed proper air. 

And so here he was. Trying to work out if the next piece of stone he shifted would bring the mountain down on top of him. Fili wasn’t sure his head was working properly. Worryingly he couldn’t even recall all of his journey from his rooms across Erebor to the hunting passageway. But he’d obviously managed it somehow. Down the unlit, abandoned passageways, and across the crumbling bridges. He laughed quietly to himself as he placed his shoulder against the final stone and sucked in as big a breath as he could manage. He obviously didn’t need to be as careful as he usually was if he could manage it injured.

Which was good to know.

He braced himself and pushed hard. Behind him his boots slid and slipped against the floor and walls of the tight tunnel as he searched for purchase and the rock shifted ever so slightly. The first tantalising caress of crisp, cool air whispered against his skin and he bit back a cry of exertion and redoubled his efforts. Any noise would carry on the still evening air to the guards on the gate ramparts far below. It wouldn’t do to be heard.

* * *

Kili awoke with a gasp and bit back the cry before it escaped. The room was dark and stifling, and he lay and stared at the ceiling whilst he panted and his heartbeat slowed. The dream already faded beyond his reach before he could catch a hold of it. A nameless dread all that remained. Beside him Ness turned in her sleep and his fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to curl in against her back for comfort. The room was too warm and he was sweating, and although it was a cold sweat the warmth of his body alone would be sure to wake her.

A small snuffle broke the quiet and he held his breath. Careful not to make any further noise he shifted as quietly as he could to the edge of the bed and looked into the crib. Tiny fists punched the air. His boy awake, and not happy about it. Kili whispered an apology and slid his feet to the floor as the snuffles took on a more urgent tone. He searched about frantically for his trousers, cursing quietly as he took too long to find them.

“Hush, little one.” He tied his laces and reached into the crib to pull back the blanket. Desperately shushing as the dwarfling screwed up his face and sucked in a big breath. The warning sign of an impending angry wail. “Come on now. Don’t wake your amad or your Uncle Bilbo.”


	8. Dreams

The stubbly mountain grass muffled the thud of the rock. Fili winced at the noise as he wriggled out of the tunnel and tried to comfort himself with the reminder that rocks, dislodged by the wind as it whistled over the peak, tumbled down the mountainside all the time. So it was unlikely the guards far below would read anything unusual into it. It was true. He’d told Ness the same thing many times. He dropped to the ground with a grunt and leaned back against the cool rock of Erebor with his eyes closed whilst he caught his breath. The breeze was refreshing and he felt a thousand times better already. In his mind if not in his body.

Once recovered enough he limped across to the large boulder on the ridgeline. It wasn’t a hard climb to the sheltered cradle of stone but he took his time with the handholds and made sure to place each boot carefully. A missed step or a slide would mean a very final tumble down the mountain. He hauled himself up over the lip and crawled away from the edge to settle himself against the stone and stretch his legs out in front of him. He would stay a little while and enjoy the air and gather his thoughts and his strength for the walk back to his rooms. The late summer sunlight was long gone and the stars shone brightly above the deep shadow of the trees of Mirkwood to the west. He couldn’t make out the mountains beyond but they were there, and beyond that, far away, lay the rolling hills and lush, green fields of the Shire.

He stretched out his fingers across the rock beside his knee. Even though she was no longer with him he still took his usual place. The habit of leaving the more sheltered inner space of the depression in the rock for her engrained. The wind was always cold this high on the mountain but he had never felt its bite in the same way she had.

He closed his eyes and smiled as he remembered her complaints. The low, continuous grumble behind him as they made their way across Erebor to their own secret place for the fresh air that she, and as it turned out he, so desperately needed from time to time. Their secret place for those times when she held her head in her hands and whispered in a broken voice that she couldn’t breathe inside the mountain. That it felt as if the thick walls were closing in on her. 

The ramparts had not been enough. Too many eyes on her, and Dale the same. Then Fili recalled the hunting passageway, and Kili’s description of a high, lonely place filled with grass and mountain flowers and silence. A forgotten haven. She’d cried when he first helped her out through the rocks and onto the grass and for a moment, until she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, he thought he’d made a mistake. 

She hated the trek across Erebor though. A secret place required caution to remain secret, and the route he mapped out for them was from necessity far from the lights of the well travelled passageways. They would stuff a pack with furs, sometimes a bottle of wine, and he would lead the way as she clung to his hand with both of hers. As if she thought that at any moment he might run off and leave her alone in the dark. The bridges in particular struck fear into her heart. No matter how many times they crossed them he could never convince her that they were safe. That he would never lead her into danger. Every time they reached one she would spit curses. As if it were a surprise and that perhaps the route might have changed from the last time. Perhaps she thought that somehow the bridges would have magically sprouted the handrails that she always demanded. It became almost a ritual. He would warn her about a bridge, and listen whilst she cursed with feeling and imagination. Then, when she finally quietened, pull her into his arms and kiss her deeply until she softened against him and her hands wound into his hair. Sometimes they’d sink to their knees, right there on the dusty flagstones, lost in each other.

Once, in the early days, Fili made the mistake of sweeping her into his arms and carrying her across one of the bridges. Naively certain that she would feel safer tucked in against him. Instead she had been furious. Punching him as hard as she could when he set her back safely on the other side, and railing at him whilst he apologised for frightening her. The only way was to coax her across. Step by shuffling step. Torches didn’t help. They only lit the yawning blackness either side of her feet and made her feel sick.

Fili opened his eyes and looked up at the blanket of stars. He suspected that Thorin knew perfectly well that he was the one who kept clearing the hunting passage. Someday his uncle would decide to collapse it properly. Possibly after today. Fili touched the fresh cuts across his knuckles. After today Thorin might see fit to close Fili's illusion of freedom permanently. As a punishment, and if the dwarf died perhaps it wouldn’t matter either way. Because, if he was lucky, there was a strong chance he would find himself back inside one of the deep cells. Far from the reach of the cool night air.

Perhaps he should have walked away at the first drip of poison in his ears. Turned and left when the dwarf smiled and it was clear his intentions were cruel. Instead his first strike had knocked the dwarf onto his backside, and Fili hauled him back to his feet by the collar as he raised his hands and cried out that it was only a jest. The feeble attempt to justify himself cut off abruptly as Fili struck him again. If there had been more words Fili hadn’t heard them, nor had he cared. He managed to get a solid kick in, one that connected hard enough with the dwarf’s temple to launch him across the floor, before the others reached them.

He lost sight of the dwarf after that. Too concerned with trying to stay on his own feet and block the worst of the blows. Thrown to his knees he swept up the only weapon available that wouldn’t actually kill someone, the blunted practice sword, and tried to break free of the roaring mob that surrounded him. 

With hindsight he was lucky no-one thought to stab him with one of his own knives. There would have been no witnesses.

His stomach clenched. Fili spread a hand across it in the hope that the heat would help. Being tried for murder, or attempted murder, was a distinct possibility. No matter that the dwarf deserved the beating, and no matter that he was the Crown Prince. It would all hinge on Thorin and Dain now. But even if they decided to be merciful... Fili pushed the thought away. It was done, and he couldn't go back and change it now. The consequences were the consequences.

He closed his eyes tightly and wished with all his heart that she were with him. She always knew what to say and how to hold him to make him feel better. Even when things seemed dark and hopeless. When his insides knotted painfully with worry and guilt.

“Witchcraft,” he would whisper to her, half in jest and half in wonder, as her soft kisses and gentle words soothed away the pain.

“Distraction.” She’d reply in a whisper as her lips curved into a smile. The smile that was just for him. The one that made him glow inside with happiness. “You are very easily distracted.”

No. He could not have walked away. He was furious with the dwarf. Fili wished he knew his name so he could curse him properly. It was as if he looked into Fili’s mind, and pulled out his darkest nightmares to torment him with.

He never told Ness what the orcs intended for her, had they dragged her into the tower on Ravenhill, but the thought of it plagued him nonetheless. He dreamt of it often. Jolted awake with her name on his lips and the sweat breaking on his skin. Certain that he could feel the flagstones of the tower under his knees and ragged claws twisted in his hair. Her scream of terror and pain an echo in his ears.

Once he thought that his dreams covered every possible orc ambush. But the dwarf had given him a new one.

Before she left him he had reminded her, as gently as he could so as not to frighten her, that the roads were far from safe. She tolerated his insistence, or his fussing as she called it, as she showed him she knew how to keep her knives sharp in the way he taught her. The smile fading from her face when he tested the edge against the meat of his thumb and told her in a low voice that, should the worst happen, a keen blade drawn quickly wouldn’t even hurt. He showed her where. Taking her fingers in his and placing them against her skin so she would remember. His own heart clenching painfully as he did. It would be just like falling asleep, he promised in a whisper, as he pressed his lips to hers whilst her face paled and her pulse pounded against his fingertips. There would be no pain.

Not like the alternative anyway, he told himself as she kissed him back and rallied. She nodded and promised she understood.

“At least the monsters here look like monsters,” Ness said, as she wound her arms about his neck. “Not like in my world. Where the monsters just look like everyone else. Here is better.”

Sometimes, when he was alone, he dreamt of her world. Or how he imagined her world might be. As he leant out his window, or attempted to read or work, he fantasised that the magic pulled her back and took him with her. Guilty, indulgent fantasies where they were trapped in her world with no choice but to make the best of it. Where they turned to each other for comfort as they mourned those left behind. 

The magical aspects of her world would take some getting used to but Fili was sure he’d adapt quickly enough. Probably a lot faster than it would take him to get used to being unarmed. To hear Ness tell it no-one carried so much as a knife. Unless they were up to no good. Fili couldn’t imagine it but it did explain a lot.

He wriggled back against the rock a little further and tried to ignore his hurts at the movement. He didn’t want to think about Thorin’s anger, or the blood on his amad’s shocked face. It would make him feel better to think of something comforting for a while. So he tried to imagine that Ness was beside him, pressed close for warmth, and turned his thoughts to his dream. 

In her world he would quickly need to find work, after he hunted down the men who had dared to lay their hands on her, but he was sure that would be easy enough. He wasn’t afraid of hard work. Then make a home for them, and, when the guilt faded a little, they’d be happy. She would be his, completely his alone, and he would be hers. They would curl up together and he’d learn to sleep deeply. A dreamless, peaceful rest from the moment he closed his eyes at night until he woke up with her, warm and safe in his arms, in the morning. He’d wake her with a kiss or, if it were cold, slip out of bed without disturbing her. Light the fire and the stove and let her find him in the kitchen and they would kiss, as if it had been years and not hours since they last tasted each other, whilst the kettle rattled and the room around them filled with steam.

Perhaps, if they were lucky, there would be children. A boy and a girl. And he would age like her. Because it was his dream and he could do exactly as he pleased. Then someday, when they were tired of their adventures and their children were grown with children of their own, he and Ness would curl up together. As they always did. And he would hold her close and they would go together. For his heart was tied to hers, and he would not take a single breath without her by his side.

He had told Ness about his fancy. One afternoon when they’d had far too much to drink. He’d fallen out badly with Thorin before the day properly started and stormed his way to Ness and Kili’s room to seek comfort and a friendly ear. To his disappointment Kili was already gone to Dale but Ness took one look at his face and wordlessly lifted a bottle of wine.

They made their way out onto the mountainside, with a stop at the store rooms to lift bread and a hunk of cheese and more wine, and got drunk. Curled around each other on a fur, with the winter sun on his face, he wound a hank of her hair around his fingers and unthinkingly began to confess his dream. Shy and embarrassed, despite the wine, he stumbled over the words and frantically tried to backtrack but to his surprise and delight she nodded along.

* * *

  
  


“Can we have a garden? Just a small one.” Ness propped herself up on an elbow. “I’ve never had one, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it, but we can learn together. Grow things.”

“We can try.”

“I’ll probably murder everything, but I’d imagine you’ll be good at it. You’re organised and you think things through.”

Unlikely. Dwarves didn’t grow things. Fili couldn’t think of a single dwarf that he knew who had even tried, and didn’t have the first idea how to start, but she was right. They could learn. How hard could it really be if men and hobbits could do it?

“What is digging into me?” She twisted and felt about his tunic. “Have you still got knives hidden away somewhere in here?”

Fili tried not to smile. Of course there wasn’t. He’d taken all his knives out before he slipped first his shirt and then the heavy tunic over her head in an attempt to keep her warm. “There’s nothing in the pockets. You’re just leaning on the rock. Come here.” He slipped a hand under her thigh and drew her onto his chest. “Better?”

“I’ll squash you.”

“No. You won’t.” He waited whilst she got herself settled. Her thigh slid between his as she moved, and Fili wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her still. “Careful, I’m trying to pay attention to what you want in your garden.”

Ness grinned wolfishly as she shifted her hips, and Fili tried to glare at her as his body responded. She gave a final wriggle and smiled. “Fine, just talking, we’ll do it your way. I don’t know what we’ll grow. Just whatever is easy. And I’ll have to get a job. Well, we’ll probably both have to get jobs really if we want somewhere with a garden. What would you do?”

“Smithing.” He’d already thought about that. “But you won’t have to work, Ness.”

“I will. That’s a very niche industry you’ve chosen and I don’t know how it pays. And anyway, I want to.” She ran a finger along the top of the bindings that covered the slowly healing wound on his chest and seemed to give it some thought. “I’ll work in a bar.”

He didn’t like the idea of her working in a tavern.

“Don’t frown at me like that. I’ve worked in bars before, Fili, and I can probably find someone willing to hire me, and I enjoy it.”

Maybe if it was a good sort of tavern it would be fine, he wanted her to be happy, but he’d inspect it properly first before they made any decision. “Only during the day. I don’t want you working late at night.”

“Is this a negotiation?” She watched his face closely as her fingers pushed under the tight bindings and slid over his skin. As his nipples stiffened at her light touch Ness smiled and turned the cloth down far enough to expose him to the suddenly cold air. “Because I can negotiate too. I like you like this by the way. I think I need to wear your clothes more often. But fine. I’ll take a day shift, and you can come and visit after you finish work.” She touched her lips to him and spoke into his chest. “I’ll bring you an ale and you can linger over that until I finish, and then you can walk me home. How does that sound?”

He drew in a breath as her tongue and fingertips moved over sensitive skin. Very aware of the movements of her thigh as she pressed against him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And then perhaps sometimes I'll help out on a busy night and you can come along. That would be fine too, wouldn’t it?”

The gentle torment was a distraction and Fili agreed, with something between a moan of her name and a whimper, as her teeth grazed him and sent a jolt of warmth to his belly. His hand flexed on her waist and he pressed her tighter against him before his mind caught up with what his body intended.

“Good. That’s all settled then."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she shifted against him. He tried to concentrate on her words, and command himself to be still, whilst she trailed kisses along his chest and the blood burned in his veins.

“You can sit at the end of the bar, and my manager will keep asking you to do this and that. Taking advantage of you really. She'll treat you like an off the books security guard, or maybe ask you to help us move a few barrels, and you'll grumble about it all but really be secretly pleased because it means you get to show off how strong you are. And you'll never have to buy a drink because there'll always be one behind the bar for you. As a thank you for helping.” The trail of light kisses wound their way along his collarbone and throat. “Sometimes I’ll get all pissed off because I think she’s overstepping the mark. But we sort it out and I manage not to get fired.”

Something in her voice changed and Fili slid a hand to her jaw so he could tilt her head and look at her properly. She smiled at him and shrugged. “I get a little jealous. It’s not my best quality.”

“You don’t need to,” he whispered. He wanted to reassure her. “With you in my arms, I could never look at another.” There was a strange light in her eyes and Fili suddenly knew he’d strayed too close to truth telling. He kissed her lightly and smiled in an attempt to bring her back to his dream. He didn’t want to think about their actual circumstances. Not now. “What will we do after you finish work? If I’m not drunk by then.”

“Then we’ll walk home. Back to our little house.” She smiled and the thoughtful expression lifted.

He weaved their fingers together. “I can hold your hand.”

“Always. And you can kiss me if you like. It won’t matter who sees us.”

The thought of being able to press his lips to hers whenever he wanted was intoxicating. He’d almost kissed her goodbye after dinner the previous evening, in front of Bofur, and caught himself just in time. A matching look of horror in her eyes. One momentary lapse in concentration that could have destroyed everything, and Fili still wasn’t sure that Bofur hadn’t realised something odd had happened. He was certain he’d seen Bofur shoot a thoughtful look between them as he walked away. But perhaps not.

Sometimes Fili half wished they would be caught and it could all come out. In the dark hours of the night, as he paced his room, the temptation to confess to Kili and Thorin was almost overwhelming. It would be akin to lancing a wound. A relief to finally admit his terrible behaviour and face the consequences. Because surely anything was preferable to the guilt that dogged his steps. He’d smother the thought before the dawn. It was too terrible to properly contemplate.

Ness stroked his face. “What are you thinking about?”

He pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“Oh.” She smiled at him when he released her. “That might be a little much for out on the street, at least for the daytime anyway. I was thinking something more like this.”

When they finished kissing each other breathless she propped herself up on his chest and took another long pull of wine. She offered it to him and he murmured a refusal as he pillowed his arm under his head. His head was already a little hazy, and he wanted to remember every word so he could turn it over in his mind later.

“We should probably do a lot more practice,” Ness said as she pulled the pack closer to her and fished inside. “Of the kissing I mean. To make sure we’re both on the same page. Are you hungry?” She talked on about their house and furniture as she lay across his chest and fed him pieces of bread and cheese and he listened happily. His free hand on her waist rising and falling with her breaths. A lot of the words were unfamiliar to him but he was content not to ask any questions and to simply let the sound of her voice wash over him, and soothe him as he lost himself in the image she painted of another life. The explanations of strange words could wait until later. 

“—and we’ll have a cat. Well, as much as anyone can have a cat.” She licked her fingers and smiled as he watched her. “A big, grumpy black one that strolls in, as if he owns the place, yells to be fed then disappears without a trace for days and leaves us frantic. You’ve never had a pet have you?”

Fili shook his head. He wasn’t sure about a cat. They were strange creatures.

“Me neither. I’d like a dog I think, but it wouldn’t be fair if we’re both working all day. Unless you can take it to work with you? Or maybe I could. We’ll work it out.”

“Ponies are easy to look after.” And you put them in a place, and they stayed put. Most of the time anyway.

“I’m not sure we’ll have space for a pony. Not at the start, but maybe if we move to the country or something. I feel like they’re very expensive though. But now that I’m thinking of it the country might be better for you, or somewhere small, because a city might be far too noisy.” She traced a finger around the outline of his ear. “In fact I think my world might be a bit too noisy for you.”

“I’ve been in battle, Ness. I think I’ll be fine.”

“It’s more constant noise. Even I mightn’t be able to cope. It’s so quiet here. Really freaked me out at the start. Honestly, there were so many times I woke up and panicked because I thought I’d gone deaf in the night. But wherever we live I’d like it to be one of those places where you can leave your door unlocked. One of those places where you know your neighbours names. Somewhere nice. You look confused.”

He was. He couldn’t imagine in what possible situation you wouldn’t know your neighbour’s name. “We locked our door a few times at home. Twice, I think, if I remember right. Most folk would knock before they came in though. Everyone knew that our mother doesn’t like being surprised. Sometimes if no-one was home they’d just wait for us.” He smiled as he remembered. “I’ve come home to Dwalin asleep in the chair by the fire more than a few times.”

“That’s nice. Somewhere like that. Maybe not somewhere so friendly where people like Dwalin just wander in and make themselves at home. But definitely somewhere with nice neighbours, and I know our neighbours will love you because you’re so good at fixing things, and you’re really polite. So you’ll help the old lady next door if she needs a shelf fixed, or if the man across the road needs a hand lifting something heavy. And in return they’ll keep an eye on the cat when we go away for a few days. Although he’ll be in and out of their houses anyway. Nicking stuff out of their fridges and eyeing up their goldfish. That sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure about this cat of yours. Go away?”

“On holiday. And he’ll be our cat, not mine. You’ll love him, and he’ll probably prefer you anyway even though I’m the one who feeds him. That’s usually the way those sorts of things go. I think we should go on lots of holidays.” Her eyes sparkled. “The sea, or the mountains. You’ll love the mountains. I’ve no idea how we’d get you a passport, but somehow we’ll manage it and then we can go anywhere in the world.” 

Her fingertips ran up his arm and she sighed longingly. “I can imagine us on a sunny beach somewhere really hot. Swimming in the sea, and then sitting at some beach bar and working our way through the cocktail list. I’d like to see you with sand on your skin and a tan, and your arm around me just like this, whilst we wait on the barman making us some ridiculously strong drink. The first of many. You’ll taste of salt and I’ll look at you as you lean across the bar to talk to him, with the sun on your hair and your bare shoulders, and I’ll think how lucky I am.”

She grinned at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you put a shirt on if you want, I know what you’re like by now, but everyone will be barely dressed on the beach. Including me.”

“Barely dressed?” That didn’t seem sensible if they were somewhere really hot, and he wasn’t sure about the everyone. 

“You’ll get used to it before you know it. Then, when we’re back home from our holiday, on days when we’re both off work, we’ll sleep in.” She shifted, and trailed her hand slowly down his chest, her fingernails scratching lightly through the fur low on his belly. He caught her hand as she loosened his laces, and raised it to his lips to kiss her fingertips.

Ness rolled her eyes, amused. “Fine. Fine. Still talking. So we’ll get up, eventually, and you’ll be wearing my robe, with your hair all mussed, as you make a late breakfast. Pancakes, maybe. I’ll sort out the coffee and have a check to see what’s on. But I’ll be finding it hard to concentrate because that robe’s a little small on you, and knowing you've nothing on underneath is very distracting.” She wriggled her hand free and brushed her fingers along his jaw. “Then we'll argue for a bit about what we’re going to do.”

He didn't think so. It wouldn't be worth an argument, because he’d be happy to do anything as long as he was with her. He told her so.

“That's very sweet.” Ness kissed him and raised an eyebrow. “But you do realise that you argue with me all the time. About everything.”

He opened his mouth to disagree and closed it again.

“Well, maybe not argue exactly. That's not quite right.” She had a look of mischief in her eyes and a smile in her voice. “You don't argue. You just say something, like it couldn't possibly be any other way, and then I'm the one who argues.”

She was getting distracted and he was keen to talk more about his dream, in case they never spoke of it again, not about arguments that didn’t exist. He wanted all her thoughts to hold on to. To keep him warm when she was gone far away from him.

“We could go to the cinema,” he said to encourage her, as he tapped his fingers against her spine and enjoyed the feel of the foreign word on his tongue. He thought he had a little understanding of what that meant. Somewhere where you went with other people to hear stories.

“We could.” She smiled warmly at him. In the way she always did when she knew his mind. She always knew what he wanted and how to make him happy. “I’d love to take you to the cinema. Or we might decide to go for a walk by the river if it’s a nice day. Perhaps we’ll find ourselves at the end of the night in some cheap bar. Listening to some band neither of us have heard of.”

Ness curled up against his chest and described it as her fingers played over him. Fili closed his eyes so he could imagine it better. A crowded, darkened alehouse. They would find a table, tucked away in a corner, and sit close together. It would be noisy. Like everything in her world. But if he could cope with the noise then they would stay, with their lips brushing against each other’s ears as they talked, their fingers entwined.

“—and we’ll hold hands,” she said, “like we always do, and my thumb will play with the ring on your finger. It’ll be an old habit by then so you’ll barely even notice me doing it.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “A ring?”

Ness twisted on his chest and reached to touch his left hand where it rested by his head. “Yes. On this finger. It’s traditional where I come from. Not braids or beads like you have here.” She curled back up on his chest and shrugged with her face hidden from him. “But we can do those too if you like. I don’t mind. I’d just like to do the ring thing so people know you’re mine, and there’s no misunderstandings.”

His heart beat a little faster, he was sure she must have felt it under her cheek, and his head span at the thought.

“If the music’s good we’ll dance,” she continued, as if she hadn’t said anything particularly special. “I’ll show you how but I know you’ll be very good at it.”

He closed his eyes. No longer sure what he was feeling as his heart soared and shattered all at once. It could never be. It was only a foolish dream that could never be real. A life that would never, and could never, be his. It was torture. But he didn’t want her to stop talking.

Her fingertips continued to trail over him, leaving heat in their wake, despite his inner turmoil. “Then, when we are finished with dancing,” she said, “we’ll make our way back through the crowd to our table and find our seats again, and I’ll touch you just like this—"

His eyes flared open as her hand slid over his thigh. He looked at her in surprise.

“—and I’ll lean in and whisper in your ear. I’ll tell you how good you look, and how you make me feel. I’ll tell you exactly what I want to do to you.” Ness made a little noise of pleasure as she traced him through the fabric of his trousers. “You’ll be so hard, like you are now, and I’ll want you so badly. But I’ll do my best to keep my hands outside your clothes. Probably. Mostly anyway. Not that anyone would care, or even notice, so long as I didn’t actually climb on top of you.”

He must have looked shocked for she laughed and slid her hand under his laces. He moaned and arched his back as she wrapped her fingers around him. 

“And maybe not even then.” She grinned and kissed him lightly. Her eyes on his as she stroked him. “But even if we get thrown out it doesn’t matter, because there’s a thousand other cheap bars. We would try to at least make it home though, even if we don’t make it much past the front door, then, after you’ve fucked me good and hard, you can make us tea and toast.”

* * *

He wanted more. There were so many conversations they hadn’t had time to finish properly. So many of her thoughts he hadn’t heard, and would now never hear. A thousand years wouldn’t have been enough. The memories he had weren’t nearly enough. He closed his eyes and imagined her smile and her voice. Sometimes he thought they were fading from his mind. It broke his heart.

He missed her terribly.

No. That was wrong. Fili shifted against the rock to try and get a little more comfortable. He missed them both terribly.

* * *

The little one's nightshirt was damp with sweat. Kili stripped it from him and blew lightly on his chest to cool him down a little. He reminded himself to open the window wider when they went back in. Not that it would make a difference. There wasn't so much as a breath of air, and it was likely warmer outside Bag End than in, but it would make him feel better.

Summers in the Shire were nothing like the summers he grew up with high in the mountains. He'd been surprised when the full heat of midsummer arrived the year before. It was stifling, sapping, humid. Kili's dwarf blood too thick. He complained that it was like being trapped in a furnace. If a furnace were wet and airless, and full of biting flies. Bilbo simply smiled and tilted his face to the sun, and claimed Kili would get used to it in time. Ness, with her heavy, swollen belly, had been unsympathetic.

He and Fili had made the mistake of going down to the sea once in the very height of summer, and been shocked by the heat of the rocky shore. The usually refreshing sea itself tepid, like a salty bath, and forcing them to swim out further than either of them liked. They'd been unable to believe it. They'd both made errors of judgement and got burnt.

He remembered how painful it had been. They'd kept their trips to the other seasons after that.

With that memory still firmly in his mind he'd argued back and forth about keeping the little one out of the sun. Bilbo insistent that neither the child, or Kili, would ever get used to it otherwise.

Kili smiled at the happier looking dwarfling and lifted him into the crook of his arm. He settled the fragile little head carefully.

“Are you hungry, my little lad?” He headed to the cold store and lingered there for a good few moments longer than necessary, sighing with happiness as he enjoyed the cool, before he lifted the jug of milk and returned to the kitchen.The pot he needed was annoyingly tucked in behind another on the rack. He fished for it one handed and shushed the others as they rattled and clanged together. 

The kitchen door opened as he was throwing some fuel into the range.

“Ah, it’s only you. I thought I was being burgled.”

“I'm sorry, Bilbo.”

Bilbo finished tying his robe tightly about himself and closed the door quietly with a smile. “At least you have your trousers on this time. Did he wake up again? I thought he was starting to do a little better.”

Kili made a non committal noise. Not wanting to admit that it was his fault. That he’d had a bad dream and woke the little one. He glowered at Bilbo. “That was only the once."

“I’ll have to find you a robe.”

Dwarves didn’t wear robes. Kili could just imagine what Dwalin, or any of them, would make of it if they walked into Bag End and found him wearing one of Bilbo’s dressing gowns. He’d never hear the end of it. The dwarfling distracted him, the little mouth searching frantically, as he nuzzled into Kili’s chest.

“No, my love,” he whispered. “That’s not what you want.” He dipped a knuckle into the warm milk and offered that instead, smiling down at the little one as he latched on enthusiastically. Sharp fingernails dug into his wrist and he reminded himself to deal with those in the morning.

The distraction would only last a few moments before his lad realised he'd been tricked, and then there'd be a lot of noise. And now he didn’t have a free hand. “Bilbo, could you—"

Bilbo was already at the stove. He poured the milk into the little feeder and tied the cloth off with a practised hand. Kili smiled his thanks and settled himself down on the bench.

“You look very tired, Kili.”

He was, but that didn’t matter. Dwarves were hardy creatures. A bit of missed sleep wouldn’t hurt him. Kili watched Bilbo bustle about and sort out his teapot, whilst in his arms the little one suckled and made happy noises.

“Bit warm for tea, surely?”

Bilbo looked at him like he'd gone mad.

“You should go back to bed for a bit. It's—" Kili looked out the kitchen window at the sky. He didn't know and he couldn't think. Maybe he was more tired than he thought after all. It was probably the heat. “—sometime before dawn.”

“I will. Why don't I take him back in with me?”

Kili smiled fondly as he watched Bilbo mutter and search through the first of the two crockery cupboards. The hobbit hole was full of cups. More cups than the entirety of the Shire could possibly need in a lifetime. Cups of all possible shapes and sizes, but only one would do. 

The hobbit was an odd creature.

“Aha.” Bilbo turned and waved a cup in the air triumphantly. All pleased with himself. “Found it, and my saucer too. Right at the back. Everything is all upside down and out of place with Hamfast and his lot calling around last night. This is what comes of letting someone else insist on doing the washing up.”

“Yes. No good ever comes of letting someone else do the washing up.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Bilbo set a second cup, full of tea, in front of him. The steam curled up toward Kili’s face and he recoiled. 

“Drink it,” said Bilbo. “Trust me. You'll feel better, and it'll cool you down.”

That didn't make any sense but, just in case Bilbo wasn't delusional with the heat or lying to him, Kili took a sip. At this point anything was worth a try.

Bilbo looked at him sympathetically. “There's a few hours yet before you need to go to work. I'll take him, and I can take him in with me tonight too. To give you a bit of a break. It's too much, Kili.”

Kili took the feeder away. The little one had fallen asleep. He lifted him slowly up against his shoulder and gently patted the soft skin of his back. Bilbo handed him a clean cloth.

“Thanks, Bilbo, but I'm fine. He's no trouble really.” Kili stretched his fingers to span his little lad's shoulders. Smiling he pressed a kiss into the sweet smelling curls. “I don't think I'll ever get over this. He's perfect.”

“Of course he is.” Bilbo tapped the table lightly. “Finish your tea and go back to bed. Promise me.”

Kili nodded and Bilbo smiled and lifted his own cup.

“Good. I'll see you in the morning then, or in a few hours. Whichever comes first.”

“Goodnight, Bilbo.”

He waited until the door had closed before he rose to his feet and made his way to the window. Out toward the east, over the neat hedge, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

The dread was back, sitting heavy in his belly. Kili pressed his lips against the sleepy dwarfling’s head as the space between his shoulder blades itched.

“My Fili.”

* * *

He'd fallen asleep. Which wasn't very sensible when he'd been kicked in the head more than a few times. Fili rolled painfully to his feet and tried to stretch but gave up when his body protested. Every bone and chilled muscle hurting.

A bath would help. He clambered slowly down the rock and made his way back toward the dark of the hunting passage. Leaving the dawning sky behind he hauled himself up the rock and crawled along the tunnel. A hot bath, and then he could face whatever the new day brought.

He stood at the end of the passageway and considered whether he should attempt to move the rocks back and cover up a bit. It was likely pointless, he decided finally, and turned away to head for his rooms. A waste of strength.

Tired and hurting though he was Fili realised he was being followed as he crossed the keystone of the second bridge. The footsteps behind him quiet and purposeful. He palmed one of his throwing knives and moved quickly off the span and into the closest passageway. Once in the relative safety of its shadows he pressed his back tightly to the wall, as close as he could get to the thicker stones of the archway. It was poor cover but better than none. He glanced down the dark passageway and considered whether to run for it. 

“Who's there?” he shouted, as he slipped a second knife from his boot and cursed himself for not thinking to lift his swords. “Show yourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter this time. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'd be completely lying if I said I wasn't toying with the idea of writing an AU where Ness and Fili are pulled out of Middle-earth.


	9. Where’s Fili?

She changed her mind again as the guard rapped the door smartly, but then it swung open and it was too late to run.

“Hello there, lass.”

It wasn’t who she expected. The big, grey haired one stood just inside the door and blocked her view completely. He smiled down at her and continued, “Not a good time for a visit I’m afraid. We’re a bit busy.”

Molir, her scattered wits prompted her as Hafdis took a step back, his name’s Molir. Dis's guard captain. Which meant that...

“Hafdis?” Dis herself peered around Molir and reached out to catch Hafdis’s sleeve before she could retreat further. The Princess was pale as death but her grip was iron as she pulled Hafdis into the room and wrapped her up in a brief, tight hug. Still reeling from the unexpected embrace Hafdis jolted to find herself caught in Thorin's gaze. His bright blue eyes bored into her, like he was searching through her deepest thoughts and didn't like what he'd found, and his already grim face grew darker. Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared back at him. This was a stupid idea. She should have refused and insisted Hafur do it, or at least come with her. 

“Thorin, stop glowering at the girl.” An old, silver haired dwarf took her arm and freed her from Dis. He smiled kindly at Hafdis and led her to a large, elaborately carved and elvish looking wooden table. Balin. She whispered her thanks as he pulled out a chair and firmly pushed her down into it. He was Balin. The King's advisor, the gatekeeper, the one who looked after the gold. 

“You look like a frightened rabbit, lass, but there’s no need to be worried. You’ve done nothing wrong, I’m sure.” Balin nodded and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve obviously come here for a reason. What's troubling you?”

Molir placed a mug of water on the table and patted her hand before he moved back. Gratefully she took a quick sip as she glanced around the room. It didn’t help. Her mouth was still incredibly dry. They all stared expectantly at her, and she cursed Hafur as she tried to find the words to start. He had promised her it would just be Thorin, which would have been bad enough, but this was too much. As the silence stretched Thorin sighed and strode to the table. He pulled out the seat opposite and sat down. Dwalin, the warrior, moved to the king's left shoulder. She smiled at him. He, at least, she knew from the training hall. They’d never spoken, but he'd talked with Fili when she was there. He didn't smile back.

“I'm listening,” said Thorin.

“He didn't come this morning,” Hafdis began. It was as good a place to start as any. “He's been helping me with Odr and we meet every morning at the stables before breakfast. He's never missed a morning since we started, and he's usually there before me actually. Talking to Odr, you know? Saying good morning. It's quite sweet really, because Odr likes him and he doesn't like that many people. Actually, if I'm being honest, he hates everybody. Even my brother, but that's justified because...”

The expression on Thorin's face stopped her and she glanced around the others. They wore matching ones. Nobody wanted to hear about her pig. She cursed Hafur again and took a deep breath for another try.

“I heard what happened, the fight, but I thought he would still come. So then I thought he might be hurt and I was really worried, and I didn't want to go to his room by myself to check on him, because it wouldn’t be right, and Hafur is with Dain and I didn't know where Gimli was so...I came here.” She faltered to a stop again; annoyed with herself. She didn't know how to finish. Hafur’s idea to not practise what she was supposed to say was a stupid one. She’d known it was, and yet gone along with it anyway. Which made them both stupid. “I’m sorry. I thought you should know that he didn’t come.”

She was annoyed with Odr too. The pig had kept looking past her as she mucked him out and prepared his breakfast. Not bothered enough by Fili's absence to put him off his food, but she'd spotted the sneaky glances he shot toward the door over the edge of the trough as he gorged himself. Likely wondering where his shiny, new friend had gotten to. Eighteen years of care and love obviously meant completely nothing to the ungrateful creature.

Balin exchanged a glance with Thorin and patted her hand. “You did the right thing.”

“Yes, you did,” said Dis. She approached the table. “Where is he, Thorin? Where is my son?”

Dis looked to have the beginnings of a bruise under her eye, and really didn’t seem her usual composed self. Which was understandable under the circumstances, but still a surprise. Hafdis opened her mouth to ask what happened but stopped as Balin shook his head ever so slightly, and signed under the table for her to stay quiet.

The door rapped smartly and Gimli raced in. Grim-faced too, and out of breath. He started when he saw her at the table and she offered him a small smile, which he rudely ignored as he bowed to Thorin.

“Can I speak with you privately, my King?”

“It’s fine, Gimli. You can speak freely,” said Dis. “Go on.”

With another quick glance at Hafdis Gimli cleared his throat. “The hunting passage is open, and the stones have been moved very recently by the look of it.”

Hafdis watched as they all exchanged worried looks.

Thorin pushed his chair back and strode away without a word into the other room. He returned a moment later throwing a fur about his shoulders. “Nori?”

“He went through to search for tracks,” said Gimli, “and sent me back to fetch you.”

“Dwalin, Molir, with me.” Thorin swept out the door followed by Dwalin, but Molir looked torn and stopped halfway between the table and the door.

Dis flicked her fingers at him and he nodded and ran after the others. As the door swung closed she turned to them with a sad and lost expression on her face. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted quietly.

Hafdis's heart swelled in sympathy for the princess. She wanted to offer some sort of support, but first she really should ask. “What's the hunting passage?” She looked at Balin and he smiled sadly back at her. “Where’s Fili?”

* * *

“I should have had him escorted to his room, and a guard placed outside it.”

“It’s not your fault, Thorin,” said Dwalin soothingly. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have locked him in it.” Thorin glared at Molir. “Will you hurry up?”

Molir grunted in response. He waved an arm at Dwalin. “Help me. I’m not going to fit and the next bit looks even tighter. Pull me out and let Thorin go.”

Thorin threw off his fur and squeezed his way past the first rocks as Dwalin dragged Molir out. The cleared path was expertly done. It wound around and over the boulders to a dark tunnel mouth up toward the ceiling of the passage. Dwalin caught up with him as Thorin boosted himself up onto the ledge and stared out toward the circle of blue sky at the other end. Not far, but it looked tight. He unbuckled his sword and handed it down.

“Where’s Molir?”

“Being useless behind me somewhere.” They listened to the curses drift through the rocks. “He’ll catch up by the time you’re out the other end. Be careful, Thorin.”

The first few feet were just about manageable on hands and knees, with his shoulders brushing the sides, but then Thorin was forced to drop almost to his belly. He growled as he squirmed along it with his beard dragging in the dust and the rocks of the roof tugging at his hair. If he felt inclined to praise his nephew, which — as the tunnel narrowed further and forced him to drop lower still with his arms stretched ahead of him — he didn’t, then he would think it an exemplary feat of engineering. But, as it was, he was just furious. Frustratingly, Fili had managed to move just enough rock to clear a path for himself. The tunnel was exactly as wide as his nephew needed it to be, and not a finger’s breadth more. Thorin cursed as he inched his way forward. This was beyond undignified.

And he was stuck.

Thorin wriggled desperately to try and free himself as his heart pounded loudly in his ears. He was caught firmly on something, and could neither go forward or, he suddenly realised, back. Dust floated down into the tunnel, and with it the faintest sound of stone grinding on stone somewhere above his head. He froze and fought down a beat of panic. He was a dwarf. To be underground was perfectly natural, and that was a perfectly natural noise to hear whilst underground. The tunnel had neither moved or shrank. Despite what his mind insisted loudly on telling him.

“Thorin?” called Dwalin, “How are you getting on?”

“Fine. Fine.”

The weight of the mountain pressed down on his head unpleasantly as he took as deep a breath as he could manage. His belt, he realised, that was all it was. With difficulty he wriggled a hand down and unbuckled it and the pressure immediately released. Fool. Digging fingers and the toes of his boots into the dust he hauled himself forward again toward the light, and cursed himself for not thinking to take off his bulky tunic.

Nori must have heard him swearing, for he cast the tunnel into shadow as he appeared — looking suspiciously like he was trying not to smile — and offered a hand to drag Thorin out the last few yards.

“Just you?” he asked innocently as Thorin dusted himself off.

Thorin looked back at the tunnel. Tempting though it was to call Dwalin through, and watch him get hopelessly wedged, he did have other priorities.

“Dwalin!” he shouted. “You two won’t fit. Go back and search his room. Meet me back in my chambers.”

He waited for the shout of acknowledgement before he turned to Nori. “Show me what you’ve found so far.”

* * *

Dis wasn’t good at waiting, or so Hafdis had discovered, for if the princess paced the room once she had paced it a thousand times. The day was wearing on and Hafdis wasn’t sure if she should go or stay. She had suggested that she leave, but Dis asked her to stay put so here she was. Sat beside Balin and feeling useless, and very hungry. She wished she had thought to have breakfast before she’d come.

As if he had been reading her mind Balin coughed. “Dis, I’m sure you are hungry and you are bound to be tired. Why don’t you go to your rooms and try and rest? I will arrange to have some food brought to you.” He nodded to Gimli.

“No.”

That was that then. 

Dis crossed the room, and peered at the map Gimli had spread across the table for what must be the hundredth time.

“How far do you think he's gone?” Hafdis whispered, when Dis stalked off for another lap of the chamber.

Gimli shook his head.

She'd really put her boot in her mouth with Dis earlier. Both boots. A silly, thoughtless observation which was out before she could stop it. Hafdis felt like she should apologise again.

“I didn't mean anything earlier,” she said in a low voice. “About...you know.”

“It's fine, lass.” Balin’s eyes followed Dis. ”You didn’t say anything we weren't already thinking ourselves, and you were right. We should have kept a watch on him. Dis is blaming herself, but we were all busy trying to sort out the trouble downstairs, and tempers were running high.”

“It's my fault.” Gimli traced a circle on the map. “I knocked on his door and he told me to go away and I did. I should have—"

“No.” Hafdis reached out and touched his hand. He didn't pull away.

“I should have sat outside his door,” Gimli continued sadly.

“The lass is right. You came back and told us he was awake and sounded like himself and that was, we felt, the only thing that mattered. None of us ever once considered the possibility that he would run. Not our Fili, not like this. You mustn’t blame yourself.” Balin patted Gimli's hand too. “If it hadn't been for Oin arriving, and wanting a look at him, I don't think we would have known he was gone until you arrived, Hafdis.”

Gimli lifted his eyes and Hafdis smiled at him in sympathy. She tried her best not to convey with her expression that it really was entirely his fault, and that he should completely blame himself. That he shouldn’t have left his cousin, his supposed best friend, alone for even one moment when he was upset and injured. Hafur had told her all about the fight, and that Fili was outnumbered and friendless. He said that if it hadn’t been for his arrival he felt it likely the prince wouldn’t have walked out of the training hall. Which would have been a shame. 

So it was lucky for everyone that her brother could be quite persuasive when he put his mind to it. That was worth some sort of reward, in Hafdis’s opinion, although so far there had been no mention of any such thing. Hardly surprising, but disappointing nevertheless. If it had been her uncle and Hafur the one that needed rescuing Hafdis was sure Dain would have heaped gold on everyone who helped. But then, Dain wasn’t a Durin in the same way. 

“I didn’t see you last night?”

She didn’t care for Gimli's tone, and any scrap of sympathy she felt for him disappeared completely in a flash of anger. How dare he? There hadn’t even been a dinner. The furious fighting in the passageways, even amongst the guards who were supposed to be calming things down, had echoed all over the mountain. And come to think of it she could ask him the same thing. Where had he been these last few weeks when his friend needed him? But that was petty, and unhelpful, and she would not sink to his level.

“Hafur locked me in my rooms.” She twisted her hands together. A quaver in her voice as she spoke quietly, “He didn’t think it was safe for me to be out there, but I could have helped. I told him that I wanted to...”

Balin patted her hand as she tailed off sadly. He shot a sharp glance at Gimli. “No, lass. Don’t upset yourself. Hafur was completely right. It wasn’t safe. Not for you.”

She was perfectly capable of looking after herself, but she appreciated the sentiment. She whispered her thanks to Balin, and he smiled back with genuine warmth.

“I didn't see Hafur either,” said Gimli doggedly. “I expected he would be in the middle of things, but he wasn’t there.”

Dis was watching her now, and Hafdis dropped her eyes to the table.

“That was my fault,” she admitted reluctantly. “We were arguing. I know I shouldn't argue with my brother but—"

“Of course you can argue with your brother.” Dis laughed, and broke the tension in the room. “I argue with mine all the time. Don't ever apologise for standing up for yourself, Hafdis.”

They shared a smile and Hafdis straightened. As Dis turned away she threw a triumphant look at Gimli and he glared back at her.

As Gimli opened his mouth — no doubt with another pointless question — the door swung open and Thorin walked in flanked by Dwalin and Molir. Dis rushed across to him and he took her hand and shook his head.

“Anything?” asked Balin hopefully, even though to Hafdis it was clear that there was no good news.

Thorin joined them at the table. He looked disheveled with dust in his hair and dirt on his hands. Molir fetched Dis over to join them and sat her down.

“Hafdis,” Balin said with a smile. “Be a good lass and go make your King some tea? The kitchen is just through the study.”

Dismissed, she headed for the door Thorin used earlier and closed it carefully behind her to show she wasn't listening in. It was a nice room. Richly furnished and cosy, with the remains of a fire smouldering in the grate. She drifted across to the ornate desk in the corner, since it was almost on the way to the open kitchen door. The desk was neat and tidy too, although the scattered papers showed he must have been hard at work when the reports came through about the fight. 

With an eye on the door, and listening hard for boots on flagstones, Hafdis flipped through the parchments. It looked like Thorin had been reviewing the latest mining reports. Careful not to disturb their order she ran a finger down the tallies and let out a low whistle. Their mines at home were considered productive — depending who you spoke to — but, even with most of the shafts out of commission, Erebor was still doing exceptionally well. Which meant that the rumours of the vast wealth under the mountain, and not just in the huge vaults, were true after all. Not clever Durin propaganda as Hafur claimed. 

The desk drawers were locked. Every last one of them. Hafdis let out a huff of disappointment, and flopped down into the chair as she spun a knife through her fingers and considered things. The locks weren’t an issue, more a nuisance, but the time was. They probably wouldn't leave her unattended for long. With her decision made she stood and shook out her skirts and headed into the kitchen. By the time Dwalin joined her the kettle was already boiled and the mugs set out and she was busy searching through the cupboards for a tray.

  
  
  



End file.
